


All I Desire

by aintIpretty, leonardodicaprio



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, College, Drug Use, M/M, Photographer!Niall, Poetry, Protective!Louis, all i desire, but not college au, existentionalism, feminine!harry, harry the fashion prodigy, liam the plane builder, louis the actor, louisandharry, moody!zayn, niall the secret poetry reader, sad!liam, super fluffy louisandharry, zayn the writer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:55:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintIpretty/pseuds/aintIpretty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonardodicaprio/pseuds/leonardodicaprio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a tragic plane accident (that Liam may or may not have caused) Liam finds himself in London, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his broken best friend, Harry develops a new interest in women's fashion, Zayn finds it harder to hide his affection, and Niall thinks that maybe his secrets aren't worth hiding anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Louis

**Author's Note:**

> I was meant to focus on one story (Bones) but George is a genius who should really share his ideas more often because they lead to wonderful things like this.

Louis

 

He vaguely remembers hearing about it, because when Harry Styles was sat perched in his lap,  licking into his mouth and palming the front of his jeans, the last thing Louis was going to hone in on was the balding middle aged man on the news reporting that forty two were pronounced dead at the scene. The tv had been promptly put on mute the second Harry came striding into the flat with black coal lining his waterline, causing his eyes to appear an even more shocking shade of emerald like the color of a green glass bottle reflecting the light of the sun.

 

Zayn had been out to find a peaceful area where he could ‘avoid ignorance and finish writing chapter five without being intruded upon every two seconds which, sadly, isn’t even a hyperbole.’ So, with the knowledge that Zayn wouldn’t be back until at least midnight, Louis took it upon himself to perform every explicit act that had come to mind the instant his ridiculously hot boyfriend had the audacity to just prance in wearing eyeliner. All tragedies in the news forgotten.

 

It wasn’t until after, laid on the hallway floor panting and Harry smugly inquiring ‘so, you like it then?’, that Louis registered the ongoing buzz of his phone twenty feet away on the coffee table. The bastards couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. Louis had laughed pathetically at the thought and ignored Harry’s smartass in favor of silencing his   spastic phone.

 

“H’lo.” Louis answered roughly then quickly cleared his throat and tried to infuse as much ‘no, what? I didn’t just have sex.’ into his voice as possible.

 

“Helllllooooo?” Louis repeated because he’s not judgmental but a full minute without returning a greeting is a bit slow.

 

Louis had pulled his phone away from his ear to view the caller i.d. and when he saw _Leeyum :) :)_ on the display he tried for an answer once more then promptly hung up and dismissed it as a butt-diall. Louis had rolled his eyes fondly and tossed his phone on the couch, Liam was infamous for those, he needn’t worry.

 

A week later, and still no word from Liam, Louis allows himself to worry just a smidgen. News of the tragic plane crash resulting in the death of forty two and the hospitalization of sixteen spread like wildfire across the media. Harry had reassured him though, ‘Louis, the likelihood of it being one of Liam’s planes is close to impossible. Relax, babe.’  and Louis was able to ignore the articles in the newspaper and the presenters on the news. But, still, he figures calling Liam would help settle him completely. The phone hasn’t even rung three times before there’s a click and Louis sighs with relief.

 

“Louis!” and well it’s certainly not Liam that’s answered, the familiar tune of Ruth’s, Liam’s sister, voice flooding through his ears.

 

“Hey Roo! What’s Liam up to? Haven’t seen his ugly mug in at least a week and half, I’m dyin’ over here.” Louis’ sat cross legged on Harry’s bed, picking at a loose thread on the duvet and listening to the faint sound of Harry singing some Spice Girls song in the shower.

 

“Louis.” He must’ve misread her tone before because, Ruth’s voice is much more grave and he can literally feel the color draining from his face. 

 

He knows, he knew all along, just had a horrid gut feel like some sick sort of instinct but he asks anyways.

 

“It was one of his? In the news, the-” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence because this is serious and Louis can’t do serious.

 

“There hasn’t been a statement released but, planes don’t just go down like that Lou. It had to have been faulty manufacturing.” And well shit, this really can’t be happening. 

 

This is bigger than anything that’s ever happened to Louis and it’s not even happening to him, but it is in a way. He and Liam have practically been joined at the hip since primary school. Nursery school was a grey area, Louis was a biter and Liam liked to take crayons that weren’t his so they they weren’t exactly destined to get along at that stage in their lives. 

 

“I’m coming, I-I’m leaving now, alright? I’ll catch the next train and be there as fast as I can, okay?” Louis’ already got his joggers pulled on and is shoving his wallet in the pocket of his hoodie and  his vans on his wooly socked feet.

 

“Things are kinda tense, Louis. I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Dad has been horribly acting like everything’s fine and Liam’s already punched about six holes in his bedroom walls. I just-” Ruth cuts short with a choked sob and it’s all the re-assurance Louis needs really.

 

“I’m coming, I’ve just got to tell Harry then I’m on my way. In the mean time make sure Li’s hand isn’t broken would you. Christ, that kid.” Louis mutters the last part under his breath and presses the call end button before she can protest anymore.

 

Louis rushes into the bathroom to find Harry leaning over the counter to get a closer look as he applies a light pink shade of lipstick and- well, that’s new. However oddly turned on he may be, Louis really doesn’t have time right now so he puts his acting degree to the test and feigns unfazed at the sight as he tells Harry he has to cancel their night in of foreign films and wine.

 

“Babe, I’ve got to go get Liam. I’ll be back in a day or two and we can have our date then, okay? Love you.” Harry, the God-send he is, just nods solemnly and presses butterfly kisses to his lips and forehead.

 

“Love you too, tell Liam I said namaste.” Louis, is legitimately unfazed this time because Harry is, well, Harry and quirkiness is to be expected really.

 

“You may get the chance to tell him yourself.” Louis says to himself as he jogs out the door and to the train station.

 

In the one hour and fifty four minutes it takes the train to arrive in Wolverhampton Louis has managed to convince himself that Liam will be sentenced to prison on forty two accounts of man slaughter and have to personally pay for the medical bills of all sixteen wounded. Which is completely irrational, the reasonable part of Louis knows that the company Liam works for is completely responsible, that Liam is just one of hundreds on the production line. But he also knows that a certain Geoff Payne is responsible for managing that production line and that a shit storm of legality issues is headed towards his team in the near future. All of this, rationally brained Louis reminds him, is only if the investigation deems the reasoning of the crash as faulty manufacturing. 

 

Louis barges into Liam’s room to find his best mate with his bloody fist raised and ready to add a, Louis looks around the room and counts with widening eyes, tenth hole to the off white plaster. Liam’s face is red and his breath is ragged as he cries eerily silently and collapses to his knees. Louis rushes over to him and cradles the boy in his arms and presses a wet kiss to his temple.

 

“It’s gonna be okay, Li.” Liam shakes out of Louis’ grasp and lets out a sob, runs his hand harshly over his face, and pulls at his hair. And Louis’ used to this kind of break down, he dealt with it enough at the beginning of his and Harry’s relationship but watching composed and cheery Liam claw at himself and bite his own hand to muffle his cries is completely different and a whole lot more frightening.

 

“Li, please, babe. Breathe. Can you breathe for me? In through the nose out through the mouth yeah?” Louis crouches down in front of Liam and takes both his hands in his own. 

 

Liam eventually, eventually being an excruciating hour later, manages to steady his breath and finally look up at Louis and is genuinely surprised when a watery but genuine half smile is sent his way.

 

“Yeah, Li. That’s it, everything’s gonna be fine yeah?” Louis coos some more and Liam shakes his head and lets out a huff and a sniffle that Louis assumes is meant to be a laugh.

 

“You’ve got lipstick all over your face, mate. Were my sisters really that excited to see you?” Liam attempts to joke but there are still tears falling down his cheeks.

 

“Erm, that’s a story in it’s own actually. Harry’s apparently conquered the men’s world of fashion and is moving on to greater things.” Liam perks up a bit at the mention of Harry and it’s a true testament to how charming the kid is considering Liam’s only met him the handful of times he’s traveled to London to visit Louis.

 

“How’s that prodigy of yours anyways?” Liam sniffles and the attempt to achieve normalcy is heartbreaking really.

 

“Good, great actually. Still won’t let me throw him a party for getting into London College of fucking Fashion as a nineteen year old undergrad. Says he wants to stay humble.” Louis throws up some much need air quotes around the word humble. “But, more importantly how are you?” 

 

Liam gives a look of ‘ _really,_ it’s not like you walked in on me mid breakdown or anything’ and Louis gives a struggled, pained look in return.

 

“Right, so I was thinking you don’t need to be around here. Small town and all that, people are gonna talk. You should come back to London with me. Get away, yeah? Remember Niall? Harry’s flatmate? He can get you proper wasted and we can all crash over there. My flatmate’s being a dick lately trying to meet the next deadline for his publisher, and quite frankly I could use a break from him anyways.” Louis slowly pulls Liam and all his buff muscles to his feet and into a hug.

 

“ I can’t just run away from it, Louis. It’s in my mind, I ki-”

 

“Don’t.” Louis cuts him off because he doesn’t want to hear it any more than Liam wants to say it. “Just pack the essentials and we’ll get the first train in the morning.”

 

“What about Dad, I can’t just leave him to deal with this. It’s all my fault, I can’t just leave him.” Liam’s headed towards round two of his breakdown and Louis is far too sober to handle that.

 

“I swear don’t you _ever_ say that again. Do you hear me? You are one person, Liam. _One person_ out of the hundreds that were responsible for putting that plane together and it could’ve just been a bad part. Now pack your shit, clean off your hand, and try to get some sleep because I’m not explaining to your mother that I’m robbing her nest with you looking like death.” Louis says sternly and he’s not certain of the validity of the whole ‘bad part’ thing being possible but it seems to work and soon enough Liam is lying in bed, hand bandaged and suitcase ready by the doorway.

 

Louis tries to relax, he does, but he can’t. His friend is so broken and Louis knows it’s not temporary, knows it’s going to take therapy session after therapy session and a few different types of meds to get Liam back to half the person he was just a month ago. You don’t just inadvertently take forty two lives and sleep well for the rest of your life, which by the looks of it Liam is already struggling with as his legs kick and his arms flinch. Louis sighs and shuts his eyes, willing sleep to come and only then does he realize he walked through London and spent an entire train ride with his boyfriend’s lipstick all over his face. He smiles at the thought and dreams of taking Harry shopping for a full supply of cosmetics.

 

With morning comes the task of having to explain to one Karen Payne that her mummy’s boy is being whisked away to London for an indefinite amount of time and Louis really doesn’t feel like breaking hearts at six am so he stays in bed until Liam wakes an hour later. Louis’ own heart is broken when Liam’s first muttered words of the day are ‘So it wasn’t a nightmare then.’ Louis’ not sure if he was meant to hear it or not so he stays silent.

 

“So, you ready to tell Mama Payne you’re ready to fly from the nest?” Louis squeezes his arm around Liam’s waist and sue him for needing a cuddle, he’s used to having Harry as the body in bed next to him.

 

“No, but then again I suppose I’ll never be and I’m not even really flying am I? More like falling. But, I suppose we’ve got a train to catch.” Liam has quite possibly become a manifestation of one of the melancholy yet worldly characters is Zayn’s novel.

 

“Well, optimism is key after all.” Louis can still be a satiric jack ass, restoring a normal atmosphere and all that.

 

“Well come on then, I’ve got a life to uproot.” Dry humored Liam is a bit disturbing, Louis briefly reconsiders every bitter comment he’s ever made.

 

Karen takes the news as best she can, she cries, but then again she used to cry when Liam would leave to stay the night at Louis’ a few neighborhoods over so it’s to be expected. She’s a good mother though,  great one really and knows Liam could do with getting away for a bit so she sends them both off with her blessings and kisses on the cheeks and bone crushing hugs. Liam’s sisters’ farewells are far less enthusiastic, they give them each a lame attempt at a hug and tell him to not be a stranger. Liam’s dad is no where to be seen, they all act like it’s normal for him to stay in bed until noon. 

 

Louis keeps a tight grip on Liam’s forearm because he knows Liam and he knows that he could bolt at any second and Louis always avoided running laps at footie practice and Liam was the top cross country runner in their district, the likelihood of being able to catch him if he were to run is a joke really. Louis allows himself to breath once the train arrives at the platform and he and Liam are able to find a table so they can each get two seats to stretch out on. 

 

Liam looks normal enough, same pouty lips, same  stubble on his jaw but something seems completely off. Louis ignores it, like any good friend would, and talks about how the new FIFA game sucks and Harry. Liam has changed but that doesn’t mean he will.

Liam looks thankful enough, manages to smile weakly and nod in all the right places and before Louis can even begin to rant on the new line of over priced jean jackets from Topman, the train is screeching to s stop and Liam is standing to get his suitcase.

 

Louis sends a quick text telling Harry to pick up some pizza for lunch and the boy never fails to impress, Louis and Liam arrive to the flat and are instantly bombarded with six different types of pizza, cheesy bread, and even some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Louis wants nothing more than to just pounce on Harry and his domestic ass and ravish him but he’s not sure of the extent to which Liam would appreciate that.

 

He manages to keep his hands to himself a majority of the time and when Liam goes to put his plate in the sink and announces he’s going to take a shower, Louis feels like he can finally breath and show Harry some real affection. Harry seems to have the same idea and the second he hears the bathroom door click shut he’s crawling across the couch and into Louis’ lap, kissing him like he’s a soldier that’s just come back from war.

 

Louis hums happily into the kiss and leans back to cup Harry’s face with both hands and look into his eyes.

 

“Missed you.” Harry murmurs and even though he wasn’t even gone a full day Louis gets it.

 

“Missed you t-” Louis rubs is thumb over Harry’s cheek and is only a little caught off guard. “Is that blush?”

 

Harry smiles sheepishly and looks down to the ground while biting his lip, he always does when he’s feeling self conscious and well that just won’t do.

 

“Looks great, love.” Louis comments nonchalantly and moves his hand down to pat Harry’s tiny bum playfully.

 

Harry giggles and Louis loves that sound, he’s convinced that the sun wouldn’t shine without it so he squeezes Harry’s hips and licks a stripe on his cheek to elicit the wonderful melody again. Harry’s full on belly laughing by the time Niall walks through the door. Niall is unfazed, he’s walked in on much worse ranging from angry make up sex to emotional hand-jobs after a screening of Love Actually.

 

 Louis had discussed briefly with Zayn about maybe switching up living arrangements so he and Harry could live together and Zayn and Niall could share a flat but Zayn had headily declined and Louis gave him a stern talking to about accepting everyone, even if they’re over zealous frat boys that can drink their weight and hardly feel a buzz. Zayn had rolled his eyes the entire time and went from looking annoyed to guilty so Louis figured it was a job well done.

 

“Hey Ni.” Harry doesn’t lift his head from where it’s buried in Louis’ neck.

 

“Where’s Liam?” Is all he says and looks around like a lost puppy looking for his owner.

 

“Chill bro, he’s jut having a shower, you can get him properly wasted once he’s finished.” Niall looks oddly caught off guard then shakes his head enthusiastically. 

“Can I get you a new rucksack, that one’s atrocious?” Harry’s flopped on his back now, using Louis’ thighs as a cushion.He gestures lazily to Niall’s beaten up tye-dye rucksack that’s bulging with whatever contents it beholds.

 

“Christ Haz, you’re turning into one of those old hags off of Fashion Police.” Niall sighs and Louis sends him a death glare.

 

“What in the hell are you doing watching a show called _Fashion Police_ anyways, Fratboy?” Louis snaps and Harry idly links their fingers together and Niall ignores his all too common defensiveness towards Harry in favor of fishing some leftover pizza out of the fridge.

 

Liam comes out of the bathroom with just a pair of joggers sitting dangerously low on his waist and he must’ve had the water turned all the way hot because his skin is tinged pink. Niall quite literally stumbles into the living room with wide eyes and pizza hanging out of his mouth, beer in one hand and phone in the other. Liam, thankfully, doesn’t even notice Niall’s urgency to be in the living room, just scratches at his stomach and asks Louis where he’s sleeping for the night. Niall eagerly offers up his bed then Harry shouts ‘Slumber Party!’ and Liam goes with Harry to gather up sleeping bags and pillows and blankets and all the makings for a fort.

 

“So, on a scale of feather down pillow to rock, how hard are you?” Louis asks Niall conversationally and has the boy sputtering.

 

“I-uh, no?” Niall manages weakly and Louis is absolutely cackling.

 

“It’s alright mate, he’s fit you're horny. That’s science ,innit?” Louis pats Niall on the thigh with a shit eating grin and Harry and Liam come back in holding loads of ‘slumber party’ supplies and Louis can’t resist being a little shit and continuing the conversation.

 

“So what are your preferences anyways m’dear, just a frat boy experimenting or what?” Niall’s eyes go impossibly wider and his eyes flick back and forth from a death glare to Louis to a worried look at an oblivious Liam.

 

“Uh, y’know. I like Harry’s mantra, if you like, you like it. It is what it is.” Louis knows Niall is alluding to Harry’s words tattooed on his chest to throw him into a distracted state of fondness but he falls for it anyway and loses all interest in teasing Niall in favor of cuddling into Harry under a massive pile of blankets.

 

They all get settled into each other and there's an SNL marathon on tv that has Harry giggling into Louis neck tiredly and Liam half heartedly laughing at from where hes laying on the couch above them. Harry falls asleep instantly, he’s always been one to pass out the minute his head hit the pillow. Niall goes off to his room to work on some homework that he will suspiciously not let anyone in the room to help him with and Louis just assumes he’s having a wank and thinking about Liam. 

 

“Hey, Li?” Louis whispers because Harry may fall asleep fast but he’s a very light sleeper and Louis figures this conversation is a bit private.

 

“M’awake.” Liam responds and Louis lilts his head to the side to look at him, the tv is glowing across his face and casting eerie shadows, making his eyes seem even more dead then they’re already becoming, or maybe that’s just Louis’ irrationality thinking.

 

“D’ya think maybe you wanna move into the complex my flat’s in? Just have some space to yourself, maybe enroll in some classes. I know its all still new but you’ve got to keep going or things will never get better.” Louis tries for a light tone, he’s not even going to mention the therapists he and Harry googled after lunch.

 

“I think that’d be good. My own place. Maybe get another job.” Louis smiles proudly and runs a content hand through Harry’s hair.

 

“Yeah, good on ya, Li. I’ll get Harry to talk to the owners tomorrow and try to get you a flat, he’s got them wrapped around his finger as it is. I’ve got an old mate from uni that owns the diner around the corner from my flat, maybe he’ll let you be a bus boy or somethin’” Liam hums in agreement and mutters a thanks.

 

“And, I’m here if you need to talk. It doesn’t matter if I’m in the middle of an audition that could land me an Oscar, you call whenever you need to yeah?” Louis unearths his hand from the pile of blankets and takes Liam’s hand in his.

 

“Thanks Lou. Love you. Now let me sleep.” Liam squeezes his hand and Louis squeezes right back.

 

“Love ya too ya prima-donna, I’ll hush now so you can get your beauty rest.” And that’s that, he’s got Harry at his side and Liam on the other and everything feels settled again.

 

They fall into a routine. Liam gets settled into his new flat two stories below Louis and Zayn’s and they all easily fall into a way of living that makes Louis question if his life was ever different. He and Zayn both take turns in the afternoons checking on Liam when he gets back from bussing tables and every other day they all either spend a few hours at Harry and Niall’s or Louis and Zayn’s and it’s great. Louis’ never felt like his group of friends could be so tight knit before.

 

Between juggling auditions and making sure Liam is still a functioning member of society, Louis hardly notices the increasing amount of times that he finds polish on Harry’s nails or gold eyeshadow dusted on his eyelids. He does, however, become quite aware of Harry’s gradual wardrobe change the second he walks into his and Zayn’s flat one lad’s night wearing a loose fitting blouse with hearts printed on it and he’s quite certain he’s seen it in the women’s clothing display window at Selfridges. It hits Louis then that what ever Harry is experimenting in is getting quite serious and Louis doesn’t have a problem with it, could never have a problem with Harry over something like that, but he thinks that maybe he should have a talk with him about it.

 

Niall bounds into the living room wearing a stretched out vest that covers about nothing and a snapback and its so stereotypically frat of him that Louis would call him out on it if there weren’t more pressing issues. He makes sure everyone else is occupied before he nudges Harry and quietly asks to speak to him in the bedroom.

 

“So you like it then?” Harry smiles wickedly and makes his way to the bed and he’s definitely read Louis wrong.

 

“Love it, babe. It’s a great color for you and hearts are...nice. But I was thinking we should maybe have a talk about whats been going on.” Harry’s face falls instantly and Louis feel like he’s kicked a puppy and stolen a child’s candy all in one go.

 

“Oh.” Harry’s blushing, or maybe he’s just wearing blush, and making himself small as he curls up on Louis’ bed. 

 

“I love it babe, all of it, the nail varnish and lipstick, it’s all great but just...why?” Louis scoots up on the bed and wraps Harry in his arms, noses into his hair because that always makes him feel loved.

 

Harry shrugs like even he doesn’t know the answer. “I d’know.It's not like I'm haviing a gender crisis, I just like the way it looks on the girls at college so I wanted to try it. Plus girls only wear makeup ‘cause it’s marketed towards them, if guys wore makeup from the start then that would be the norm. It’s like pink is a nice color yeah? But if I were to wear pink shoes in primary school or even now I’d get laughed at ‘cause blue’s always been for boys and pink’s meant for girls. It shouldn’t be like that though. People should just be able to enjoy what they like s’long as it’s not hurting anyone.” Louis smiles fondly into Harry’s hair where his lips are pressed to his temple.

 

“Wish you ran the world, love.” Louis says softly and Harry looks legitimately offended and for a second Louis thinks he’s monumentally fucked everything up.

 

“That’s Beyonce’s job.” Harry says deadpan and they both burst into laughter and this, this is one of the many reasons why Louis is so in love with his boy.

 

Harry wiggles out of Louis’ arms and hums Run The World theatrically while shaking his tiny bum and makes his way back out into the living room where Niall and Liam are shouting at the tv and Zayn’s writing furiously in his notebook _‘not a fucking journal or diary, its for notes that’s it now fuck off Louis’_. so that means that XFactor is on then.

 

Louis goes to grab a bottle of beer for everyone and lets Harry entertain the others who don’t even give a second glance at his top, hell, Niall probably picked it out for him. It’s stupid moments like this, when Louis reaches into the fridge to grab the bottles and his knuckles graze against the bowl of fruit salad Harry left for him, that Louis feels over whelming pangs of adoration. Because Harry is just so perfect and kind and his it’s unreal, Louis feels the flutter in his chest and the quickness in his breath and he just knows there’s a stupid smile on his face when he walks out into the living room and passes out the beers.

 

“Oi,Tommo, you get high without me?” Niall questions and Zayn scoffs disapprovingly, Louis shakes his head and turns to look at Harry.

 

“Nah, I was just thinking about when Harry and I met and how-”

 

A loud chorus of exasperated sighs fills the room and Zayn quips “Not this god forsaken story again” as Niall lets out a particularly load groan and Liam just stares blankly past them all.  Louis’ slightly worried about him but then Harry grabs his hip and twists him back onto the couch so he’s practically on top of him and all his thoughts are lost.

 

“ _I_ think it’s a lovely story, practically a fairytale if I do say so myself.” Harry murmurs just for Louis to hear and he almost says ‘what story?’ because he looked into Harry’s ocean eyes and went underwater for a second.

 

“Mmm.” Louis hums and nuzzles into Harry’s neck, he’ll worry about Liam later, and tell their story again eventually.

 

Two hours later finds them all a lot more tipsy and there are so many sexual innuendoes thrown back and forth it has them all blushing. Harry is the main culprit and Louis has to promptly shut him the hell up before he suggests a massive orgy because it would earn him a slap from Zayn, an eager agreement from Niall, and Liam would probably piss himself with nerves and embarrassment and Louis does not want to clean any of that mess up. Or share Harry. 

 

Liam still staring blankly but now it’s at Zayn rather than the wall so Louis’ drunken mind counts that as an improvement. Niall drinks himself under the table, literally, and ends up passed out underneath the coffee table that Louis and Zayn got from a charity shop when they first moved in together and realized they had nothing to furnish the place with. Zayn is quite giggly one minute then the next he’s sloppily scrawling in his diary, notebook, whatever. Harry keeps kitten licking at Louis’ nose and that’s, well that’s enough to distract him from the way Liam’s face and chest turn bright red and his eyes light up when Zayn looks up and catches him staring.

 

Louis supposes in another life, in another universe that he can handle his alcohol well enough to let Harry have his way with him but that universe is not this one and all he can manage is some sloppy snogging that tastes like greasy pizza and cheap beer and something distinctly Harry, like jasmine or vanilla or something more eccentric. 

 

“If y’two are gonna geddoff right here, point yur’guns away fromme yeah?” Niall slurs from underneath the table and Harry squawks out a surprised noise and throws his head back in laughter and that’s about all Louis remembers for the rest of the night.

 

He wakes up the next morning with Harry’s hand in his pants and a pounding headache and is so tempted to skip his audition that’s in a few hours but figures he needs all the opportunity he can get. They managed to make it into the bedroom and by the looks of it, Louis fell asleep before he was able to get off but Harry’s got dried come on his stomach and Louis laughs when he sees the sloppy shapes he traced in it still remain. Harry slowly lifts his head up at that and smiles lazily up at Louis. 

 

“Oh, good you’re awake now.” Harry gets out roughly in his morning voice and Louis’ heart skips in his chest as Harry climbs over him and finishes last night’s business.

 

“Good morning to you too.” Louis breathes out once he’s come down from the best hand job Harry’s ever given. He rolls onto his side to snuggle into Harry and presses kisses to whatever skin his lips can reach.

 

“Bath?” Harry suggests and Louis let’s himself be carried to the bathroom because he needs to preserve his energy and all that, he swears he’d walk otherwise.

 

Harry brings the water to a nice warm temperature and throws in a fizzing bath bomb that he insists on using and Louis finds it endearing and really doesn’t mind because it makes them smell like each other for days and he’s not possessive he just thinks people should have some way of knowing just exactly who Harry belongs with. Not possessive at all really, or at least that’s what Louis tells himself.

 

They sit opposite each other and this is Louis’ favorite part about staying the night with Harry because the next morning Harry always sings to him while they’re taking a bath or a shower when they don’t have time to sit and splash water at each other or sometimes they'll just sit and talk until the water goes ice cold. Harry’s going on about which fabric he thinks will best work for his next project and how he’s already started on his final one but all Louis can think about is how lucky he is to have ended up with someone so amazing.

 

“...but cotton isn’t very fabulous so maybe I’ll use OH! how about I use velvet for the-”

 

“Do you think we’ll get married one day?” Louis cuts Harry off and the boy instantly goes silent and a blush creeps up his cheeks and down his chest.

 

“I hope so ‘cause darling I’m never lonely whenever you are in sight and you alone were meant for meeee.” Harry goes off into singing a Sam Cooke song he’s always humming into Louis’ ear and Louis pushes his toes into Harry’s thigh in frustration.

 

“I’m being serious.” Louis pouts and Harry smiles softly at him.

 

“Me too.” and then it’s comfortable silence, and fond glances and so utterly them and yeah, Louis hopes so too.

 

They’re both pruney and loved up by the time Louis has to get out and get ready for his audition. Once his hair has been styled perfectly to look like he just had sex he still has twenty minutes before he has to leave so he goes to hang on Harry while he cooks breakfast for everyone. Liam managed to make it back to his flat but Niall only made it to the front door before he passed out and mysteriously woke up with a pillow under his head and a blanket over his body and it was absolutely not Zayn because Zayn doesn’t show his affection, except for when he’s drunk. It was definitely Zayn.

 

Niall’s got his blanket wrapped around his shoulders and is sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, Zayn’s sitting in the window seat staring at the street longingly and Harry’s slaving over a hot stove with a frilly apron tied around his waist. Louis figures he could use a good luck kiss before he goes to try and land the role of “snarky camp friend to kick ass female lead” as is agent had described it over the phone the other week. He stands on his tip toes and hooks his chin over Harry’s shoulder and rubs up and down his sides. 

 

“I love you, babe. You’ll do great.” Harry is a mind reader and Louis is smitten.

“Thanks, love you loads.” Louis presses a wet smacking kiss to Harry’s lips and Niall and Zayn groan simultaneously from their respective spots in the flat.

 

“We’ll celebrate later.” Harry winks and tries to be suggestive but Louis knows Harry and knows that he means celebrate in the most literal sense and that there will probably be a cake and balloons when he gets home.

 

Louis calls out his farewells to everyone and receives a particularly sincere and worrying “break a leg” from Zayn. When he get’s to the address in the inner city  that his agent emailed him it’s already two in the afternoon and he doesn’t have enough time to pop into the cafe across the street. Louis walks into the skyscraper of a building with a stomach full of nerves and empty of the delicious cakes that he could smell in the air. The receptionist is young and pretty but has a sour look on her face but Louis would to if he had her job so he understands.

 

“Name.” is all she demands and he murmurs his last name and her sour look turns almost lustful as she hands over a badge.

 

“Floor twenty.” is all she says and Louis starts to walk to the elevator before he realizes-

 

“What’s the office number?” he questions and backtracks to the now slyly smiling girl with a black ponytail so tight and slick it looks like it hurts.

 

“It’s BBC casting, they have the whole floor.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Louis’ eyes widen impossibly. 

 

His beautiful, wonderful, magnificent agent managed to score him an auditon with BBC and Louis manages to make it inside the elevator before squealing excitedly and he’s probably being watched through a camera by security but he really couldn’t care less. He’d wondered why his agent had been so secretive, usually he gets a small script of a few lines to practice for whatever commercial he’s in but this, this is freaking huge.

 

The elevator dings and he walks onto the floor and is met by a much more cheery receptionist who smiles genuinely and shows him to the waiting room. Louis is surrounded by a few other hopefuls and realizes that the audition is probably going to be a lot of  improv so he quickly runs over every monologue he has memorized. He’s not even nervous anymore, he knows what to expect and he’s full of excitement. 

 

Louis’ just decided to use a scene he’s memorized from Skins when his phone goes off loudly and disrupts the atmosphere, his cheeks heat up as he goes to silence it but when he sees _Leeyum :) :)_ as the incoming call his stomach drops and his mouth goes dry and he’s fumbling to answer it.

 

“Liam?” He says as softly as possible, he knows its rude to take a call in the waiting room but Liam hasn’t called Louis since The Incident and that’s including the time he started crying at work and couldn’t stop and had to be escorted home.

 

“I love you.” Liam says airily but it sounds muffled and slurred like his tongue is too big for his mouth. “I love Jack.” Louis faintly remembers Jack as a waiter at the diner.

 

“I’m sure you do.” Louis says because Liam must be drunk and now is really not the time, not when he has an audition for BB fuckin’ C.

 

“Shhhh, this’ ‘mportant.” Liam chastises him. “Jack is just so nice, he gave me ass- haha no he gave me _acid_.” Louis starts to feel the prickling of worried nerves.

 

“What?” He questions weakly because surely that can’t be right, Liam’s smarter than that.

 

“Aaaccciiiddd I said, ahhh-said. Acid.” well, Liam is definitely strung out on something. “ ‘e’s not as lovely as Zayn though, he’s just so _beautiful_ I almost cut myself on ‘is cheekbones... Zayn’s not Jack’s.” Louis stays as calm as possible and listens to Liam’s disjointed thoughts. “He makes me forget y’know? He’s so pretty, I look and there’s stars... when I look at ‘im I forget that I built a plane that crashed and killed innocent people.”

 

“Liam.” Louis hisses because they’re not going down this road, not today, not ever unless it’s at therapy.

 

“I probably killed kids and entire families. I probably sent the person with the cure for aids crashing into the ground. There was probably lots of fire and-” Louis flinches as a loud sob comes form the other end of the line and of fucking course Liam had to choose today to break.

 

“Louis Tomlinson.” A middle aged woman in an expensive looking trouser suit with glasses perched on the tip of her nose calls from the door everyone’s been intently staring at for the last half hour.

 

“Liam, I’ve got to-”

 

“They didn’t deserve to die, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault. I deserved it. I deserve it.” Louis doesn’t know what to do, well he does. He has to go to Liam, has to help his best friend, his brother, but he really can’t let go of this opportunity.

 

“Liam, _please_.” He begs hopelessly and the lady is calling his name again, this time with less patience.

 

“I think, I think I keep seeing it. I thought the acid would help but all I see is fire and blood and it should be my blood.” Louis stills, it’s his unspoken fear that Liam will hurt himself over this, hurt himself beyond repair and Louis is frozen in fear.

 

“Liam, I’m coming to help you okay? Are you at your flat?” The lady is calling his name out for the third time but he’s quickly walking away from her to the lift. “Can you drink a glass of water for me? Actually just stay where you are, I’ll call Harry, he can come and cuddle you before I get there yeah?” 

 

“Yeah. Okay.” Liam answers quietly like speaking too loud will hurt him even more. 

 

“I’ll be there soon okay.” Louis sprints out of the building and hails a taxi, practically throws himself inside and yells out his address once he gets one. “I love you, I’ll be there soon.” Louis says sincerely because he’s not sure he’ll get to say it again.

 

He tries not to think about how Liam will never be the same again, about how his agent is going to be absolutely pissed with him, about how he just passed up the greatest opportunity he’ll ever get. He calls Harry and focuses on his voice telling him everything will be okay eventually, telling Louis he loves him and that he’s outside of Liam’s flat now. The last thing he hears is “ Liam answer this door or- ohmygod. What did you do?” and the line goes dead.


	2. Liam

Liam

 

It comes to him in bits and pieces. Like when he’s sitting on the couch at his flat and something about the plane crash (or any plane or any crash really)comes on the news then suddenly he’s not in his flat anymore. He’s on the plane. _The_ plane. And the oxygen masks are dropping and he’s spiraling towards the ground and there’s fire, lots of fire and screaming, so loud he has to cover his ears and blood, dark and bright red everywhere. He looks around to find he’s the only one that survived and then burning pieces of twisted metal come into focus as his table lamp and the sparking wires aren’t actually sparking wires but the flickering tv and he’s back. But he isn’t. Because in those moments he can’t differentiate the real and the fake and in those moments there is no greater reality to choose from because in both the guilt he feels is crippling.

 

At first it was just night terrors, he’d wake up from his body flinching violently and his cheeks would be soaked with tears and he’d just sit there and cry until his alarm went off and he’d wash his face and go to work and be numb. Then the dreams stopped but the numbness was still there but he felt hopeful at least, until the flashbacks started. And he doesn’t understand because how can you have a flashback to a moment that didn’t even happen to you. A search on google tells him it’s a form of post traumatic stress disorder but Liam doesn’t think that’s all too right because nothing he went through was traumatizing to him, he’s the one that caused the trauma. He’s not a doctor anyways so it’s not like diagnosing himself would do any good.

 

Liam tells himself he can handle it, just will away the bad thoughts with loud music and those few seconds a day he sees Zayn when Louis can’t make it down to check on him. But self control and willingness only goes so far so it’s not only inevitable but logical to turn to drugs to make the bad things go away. It makes sense, he doesn’t want to feel bad things and Jack from work says that acid can make you feel great things. So he tells Jack briefly of his problems and the guy feels so bad he gives Liam his first and second and third hit for free. A wonderful succession of tiny strips of paper and worked perfectly the first two times. 

 

FIrst on the day the report came out that the crash was, in fact, due to structural failure caused by a malfunctioning part from the plane building company Liam has since abandoned. The high was great, he could only see lovely things like flowers and Zayn in a kaleidoscope of images and it was great and he wanked to the thought of deep brown eyes and Zayn and it was great. The second time was one day after his third flashback in a row and all thoughts and images of fire were replaced by memories of when he was a kid and all he could see and hear and feel was a calming reel of Louis and sitting on top of monkey bars and playing hide and seek with his older sisters and winning races and rosy cheeks when Louis told him in vivid detail all about what he and his old boyfriend would get up to and Liam wondering if maybe he would like to kiss boys too and sneaking out to pubs and passionately kissing the cute smiling boy in a bathroom stall and just when things got to the good bit the boy had morphed into Zayn and all things great.

 

In retrospect, Liam supposes it was a sign that he was becoming to reliant on acid but he also thinks it isn’t fair that he had to learn his lesson in such a terrorizing way. It was only meant to make him feel good things and after the third time that week having to go back to his flat from work early because he couldn’t control his emotions Liam thought he deserved to feel good things so he placed the little strip on his tongue and waited for the high. What came was even more vivd explosions and blood splattering and he was laughing in hysterics one minute then screaming the next and thrashing around and then his phone was in his hand and Harry was at his door and now he’s back and he’s in reality and like always, he wishes reality didn’t suck so bad.

 

“Ohmygod...” Is Harry’s first response after kicking the door in, which Liam thinks is a paradox ( _Zayn would know, Zayn’s so smart)_ because Harry is wearing what is obviously a jumper from the girls section of somewhere and the nails on his left hand, just the left, are painted lilac. “What did you _do?”_ Harry gestures to the torn up inside of Liam’s flat.

 

 

“What time s’it?” Liam asks, catching his breath and-wait since when was he holding the  clay ash tray Louis had gotten him as a flat warming gift? Liam shakily puts the dish down ad cautiously looks up at Harry.

 

“Fuck, I don’t know like two thirty.” Harry sounds exasperated. Harry never sounds exasperated.

 

“ _Shit._ ” Liam mutters, he’s been tripping an entire twelve hours and it started off alright then spiraled into a horrible vision of death. 

 

Harry steps in and assesses the damage, there’s broken glass from picture frames and beer bottles scattered on the floor and he doesn’t even want to know how the tv has a perfectly circular shaped hole in it, doesn’t ask either. Liam probably. most definitely won’t know either. Other than that everything looks like it’s been upturned in a fit of rage. The couch is pushed away to the wall and the coffee table is on it’s side, the magazines and dvds it once held are now thrown around on the floor. Harry’s torn, not sure to be pissed off at Liam for making Louis miss his audition or heartbroken that Liam is going through such a tough time. He’s Harry so of course he feels the latter.

 

“It’s okay Liam, it happens to the best of us.” Harry opens his arms offering a hug and Liam accepts it graciously. 

 

He wants to tell Harrry that no, it does not. That the best don’t take Class A drugs to forget they’re a murderer. He would also like to not shatter Harry’s wonderfully unique way of thinking so he stays quiet and clings to him because Harry is real, Harry is there, that, he is sure of. He’s glad his best friend has found someone so gentle and understanding to be his forever because Liam feels like his life won’t ever be that simple .

 

“Are you hurt?” Harry rubs Liam’s back and Liam murmurs a no and rests his eyes. Staying awake for thirty six hours and having a bad trip for twelve of them is just a tad bit tiring believe it or not.

 

“I mean in here.” Harry taps his head and it’s a question he _would_ ask. 

 

“I-I, yeah.” Liam breathes out and shrugs in defeat. Harry hugs him tighter and sways back and forth and Liam realizes the music is still playing in the background and it’s not nearly as loud as his acid ridden mind had perceived it to be.

 

“Harry?” Liam slurs, his words muffled from his face being pressed into Harry’s chest.

 

“Liam darling?” And most people would respond with ‘yeah’ or ‘what’ but this kid is set out to be oddly endearing all the damn time.

 

“Why are we slow dancing?” 

 

“I was just wondering the same exact thing, my good friend.” Louis pipes up from the doorway and Liam knows it’s meant to be snarky but the only emotion in Louis’ voice is relief. 

 

Harry absolutely lights up at Louis’ voice and bounds over to him and picks Louis up and twirls him around like a child. They exchange kiss filled greetings of ‘You make that jumper look so good.’ and ‘You can fuck me in it later.’ and Liam’s shoes become a lot more interesting to stare at. Louis and Harry barely have the decency to break apart and help comfort Liam and Louis only cooperates when Harry says ‘sweetums, remember that comment you made about the lady on the tube the other day, help clean up so you can fix your karma.’ 

 

Louis rolls his eyes fondly and turns to Liam, takes a moment to assess just how trashed the flat really is and looks horrified.

 

“What the _fuck_ , Liam?” Louis questions indignantly. “ I mean, if you need to smoke a joint, cool, great fine by me. But taking acid? Did you really think that would work out, that it would make everything okay? I know you’re not in the right state of mind right now but holy shit, this has got to be the worst decision you ever made.” Louis is yelling now, albeit more like a feisty pixie than anything intimidating but he’s still Liam’s best friend and his words still hurt like hell.

 

“Louis.” Harry says warningly.

 

“You know what? I missed an audition for _BBC_ because I was terrified you’d gone off and hurt yourself and I come to find you slow dancing like this is a fucking joke? You could of killed yourself! Who the fuck told you it was a good idea to take acid alone, or at all?!” Liam can’t take it, not this soon after a breakdown, the stress is building up too quickly and breathing becomes significantly harder to do.

 

“Louis, be _sensitive_. You’re not going to solve any problems with hostility, come here, Li. It’s okay, we all mess up sometimes and you only did it ‘cause you thought it would make you better. It’s okay.” Harry comforts and gracelessly walks over to Liam and pulls him into another gentle but all encompassing hug. 

 

“Thank you.” Liam gets out brokenly and clings to Harry’s shirt because he just has this thing about him, he’s a motherly like teenage boy and it’s impossible to feel anxious or alone when he’s around. 

 

“Lou, how about we help Liam clean this mess up and then you two can sit down and have a nice conversation, no yelling. Or I’ll make you go to yoga with me next week.” Harry’s attempts at being strict actually work, despite him being an absolute softy, and Louis is joining in on the hug and murmuring apologies and kissing temples. 

 

The mess gets cleaned all too soon and Harry reminds Louis to be kind and caring one more time before he leaves to go frost a cake, what the cake is for Liam has no idea but he assumes it’s probably for some stupid anniversary they celebrate all the time. Just the other week they had their anniversary for the third time they went to Leeds festival together and not even Niall could pretend to be happy for them about it, he just sat with his legs crossed and his eyes moving quickly around the room like he wanted to be anywhere else but sat in Louis and Zayn’s living room congregating about memories only two people in the room of five shared. 

 

Louis sits Liam down on the couch and Liam groans because he _really_ does not want to talk about it. Just wants Louis to let him continue with life because he truly has learned his lesson and doesn’t plan on taking acid again, ever. But Liam knows Louis won’t sleep right until he’s made sure that he’s going to remain completely sober from all things harmful and then he’s really going to want to _talk_. 

 

“I’m just- I was so scared Li, thinking about how hurt you could have been, how hurt you are. And then I thought-” Louis juts out his bottom jaw and takes a deep shuttering breath and after years filled with Liam comforting Louis over break ups and bullies, he knows Louis is trying as hard as he can to hold back tears.

 

“And then I thought, what I felt in that moment wasn’t even half as horrible as what you’ve been going through lately.” Louis composes himself.

 

“I’m fine.” Liam mutters dismissively and the way he says it is almost eerie, dark in a way Liam can’t remember even having a nightmare of.

 

“Don’t give me that bullshit!” Louis cries out then brings his voice back down. “Liam we’ve known each other all our lives, you’re the only person I know better than Harry. For _sixteen years_ we’ve been best mates and I’ve never seen you like this before, I’ve never seen anyone like this before. It’s okay to need help, Li. I love you, the only thing I want is for you to be happy again.”

 

Liam contemplates yelling, throwing himself into a fit of rage and forcing Louis to leave but he doesn’t want that, not really. What he wants is to go a day without crying, a night without seeing fire and blood in the back of his eyelids. What he wants is to be normal again so he can talk to Zayn or anyone other than the three others that seem to constantly be around. So he talks.

 

“I was thinking the other day,” Liam starts and Louis listens intently, obviously surprised by his cooperation, “ If I had been on the plane and I died, what have I done that’s worth anything in life?” 

 

“Liam, you’re a wonderful per-”

 

“Yeah but, what have I ever _done_?  I mean you and Harry managed to find your soul mates before the age of thirty, Zayn’s getting a fucking book published, and Niall makes everyone around him light up and on top of that he’s managed the perfect college life. I’m a nobody who worked in a factory not because I wanted to but because my dad managed to get me the job.”

 

“ Your life is just as significant as everyone else's, Li. If something were to happen to you do you realize how devastated we all would be? Do you not realize the effect you have on people? And hell, Liam, you’re only twenty one, you’ve got nine years to find your soulmate if you’re so set on putting a time limit on it!” Louis pulls Liam into a hug and murmurs how incredible he is and how important he is and Liam doesn’t believe it but he’s glad someone does.

 

“I didn’t mean to fuck up your audition, or anything else you’ve put aside these last few weeks to help me, thank you for all of this.” Liam switches subjects because well, it’s the easy way out and luckily Louis is eager enough to get back to Harry to take the bate.

 

“I love you, Liam Payne. Anytime you need me, I’m there. Sorry about going of on you like that.” Louis leans into kiss his cheek, a habit he acquired not too long after meeting Harry, and stands and for a second Liam thinks he’s getting off easy.

 

“I don’t mean to coddle you or anything but next few auditions I’m gonna have to send Zayn or Harry down here to be with you until I know your just a little bit okay.” 

 

Liam’s too focused on trying to not audibly whimper at the thought of having to spend hours locked away with the eighth wonder of the world that is Zayn Malik that he forgets to protest Louis’ mother henning. Before he knows what’s happening, Louis has swooped back in for another kiss on the cheek and is skipping out of his flat. He can only hope Louis will forget his new rule the minute he sees Harry like the time he forgot his rule about love at first sight being real the day he met Harry. Apparently the boy induces memory loss.

 

One night the next week they’re all gathered ‘round the tv watching some sorry soul get booted off Project Runway (Harry’s pick) and Louis’ flat smells unsurprisingly of sex and spaghetti bolongnese. Harry, the bastard, decides to make an announcement.

 

“My best mate is having a show for her spring collection tomorrow if anyone wants to come?” It’s a given that Louis will go, spending every minute with Harry he possibly can, the question is directed to the other three who all look less than enthusiastic. Niall just looks utterly confused and at the brink of asking a question and Zayn is staring at him in amusement.

 

“But, it’s winter... Why the fuck is she-”

 

“That’s how it works, Ni.” Zayn quips and there’s absolutely no condescending venom in his voice and Liam is only a tiny bit (A lot a bit) jealous, everyone else is just plain confused. “They have the shows the season before so people know what to wear when the season comes.”

 

“Oh.”

 

The room is slightly more awkward after that because _the_ Zayn Malik just explained something in an understandable and non superior way and that just doesn’t happen. Like ever. 

 

“Well looks like I’m the only one that can appreciate the arts.” Louis pipes up and kisses Harry sloppily on the forehead which isn’t an easy feat considering they’re practically sitting on top of each other on the couch.

 

“Hey Z, how about you go hang out with Liam tomorrow, get out of here and you might just find enough inspiration in a different setting to get that next chapter written.” Louis sounds too much like a dad, his tone cautious and his words slightly insincere.

 

They all know what happened last week, they all know that Liam is going to have to be babysat now, they all know what Louis is really trying to say, and they all try to act (horribly) oblivious.

 

Zayn shrugs in lame agreement and Liam’s insides erupt with nerves. Zayn is going to be within reaching distance for an entire day and will get reprimanded by Louis if he tries to leave. Liam tries not to act too excited about it. That would be creepy.

 

The night is just like any other after that, Harry and Louis attempt to give inconspicuous hand jobs under a blanket and fail miserably and disappear into Louis’ bedroom, Niall sits with his phone in front of his face doing whatever it is that he does, Zayn’s got his thinking face on and is tapping his foot incessantly, and Liam is thinking up eleven different ways to seduce Zayn within the next twenty four hours. 

 

“Right well, I’ve got to get going I’ve got... My mate Brad’s having a rager and I’ve got to beat my record for takin’ the most belly shots in one night, wish me luck.” Niall sounds unsure of himself as he stands and stretches out, his knees pop and crack and he lets out a loud yawn.

 

“I thought his name was Brandon.” Zayn and his damn attention to detail pipe up.

 

“Ugh, no, no. Different guy. This guy is ugh... I met him at a pick up match the other day, he’s a wicked front center, gave me a few assists.” Niall nods in agreement with himself and scurries out the door with a few last mumbled farewells and well-

 

“That was weird.” Liam observes Niall’s shifty behavior and immediately regrets it when Zayn’s neck snaps in his direction.

 

“Maybe he’s just fuckin’ tired. And even if he is weird, there’s no problem with that.” Zayn’s bites and Liam decides to just shut up after that.

 

The season of Project Runway is already to the semi-finals when Harry and Louis stumble back out into the living room looking fucked out and blissful as ever. If their throaty moans thirty minutes back weren’t enough evidence, Harry’s flannel on inside out and his fly down certainly is.

 

“Where’s Niall?” Harry asks and blushes furiously when his voice cracks. Louis looks smug.

 

“Left to go to Brad’s party a while ago.” Liam offers and Harry looks perplexed as to who the hell Brad is but doesn’t ask.

 

“Guess I’ll have to find my way home alone then.” Harry sighs dramatically and Louis tries to hide his smile.

 

“Hmmm, well you’re obviously all tuckered out, my bed’s awfully nice and the sheets are warm, as you already know. Pretty boy like you shouldn’t be walking home alone in the dark...Eureka! Why don’t you just stay the night here?” Louis acts like he’s just discovered gravity and jumps into Harry’s arms.

 

“Eureka indeed. Seeing as you’re my date to the show tomorrow anyways, it’s only logical. Now get back in there and let me eureka all over that fit body of yours.” Harry crowds into Louis’ space and backs him up towards the bedroom again. Liam throws up in his mouth a bit.

 

Zayn looks positively done with life and Liam wonders briefly why he spends so much time in this flat instead of his own. The tv has been turned up to a volume of ear-bleeding but Liam doesn’t complain because he’d rather hear Heidi Klum’s broken English than Harry and Louis’ broken cries of pleasure. Zayn is tapping his foot in a way that Liam has come to find means he’s agitated or generally just pissed off at the world.

 

Liam’s sort of just stuck in this trance, studying Zayn’s features. His perfectly sculpted everything, his carefully shaven facial hair, his lethal cheek bones combined with his strong jaw. Liam thinks those things are great but they’re not the greatest, his favorite parts of Zayn aren’t even visible, they’re the way he always stands his ground, they way he smiles so unabashedly when he thinks no one’s watching, the way he just _is._ And not even Liam understands how he can be so infatuated with the mere way that someone exists but he is. He is so enraptured with Zayn that he feels his chest fill warmth and his head clear of everything but amber eyes and raven hair every time Zayn is around. 

 

“The fuck do _you_ want?” his biting tongue is also admirable and Liam forgets to be upset by the fact that he’s the object of Zayn’s spiteful remarks.

 

“Uh...I” Liam stammers and wow. Zayn is actually speaking to him.

 

“You know, I really don’t get it.” Zayn shakes his head in disbelief and Liam suddenly feels an uneasy sort of nerve settle over him.

 

“I-I’m sorry?” Liam questions shyly because this is not like Zayn at all, despite witty remarks, Zayn is calm and collected and just not... like this.

 

“You, how do you have the right to be depressed? Huh? Are you really that fucked up ‘cause you worked for a company that inadvertently killed a few people? Because the last I heard in the news you and every other worker got off lawsuit free and every person in the world automatically blames the Muslims. I can’t go into to Tesco without a bigoted imbecile clutching their bag or calling me ‘paki scum’ under their breath. And you get off without even a smack on the wrist after killing people. I can’t go out to a restaurant and have a nice conversation with my dad in Arabic without some closed minded and open mouthed racist asking to be moved to a table further away from us and you get pampered! If I would have been in that production line I would be rotting in jail after an hour of questioning. So don’t sit on my couch and sulk and give me the side eye because I won’t take it, I don’t care if you’re Louis’ best mate you can find the exit and never come back if you even dare  _think_ anything negative towards me or where I came from.”  Zayn isn’t yelling but he’s speaking so firmly and confidently Liam is cowering down and looking at him pleadingly. Zayn can’t possibly believe Liam would sacrifice any time thinking about his gorgeousness to think such cruel thoughts.

 

Zayn gives a particularly nasty look at Liam and all at once the words of accusation catch up to him. The tv isn’t playing sounds of pretentious designers anymore, it’s playing a continuous loop of cries and screams and Liam covers his ears like a child. And this isn’t supposed to be happening, Zayn makes him feel safe and now he’s turning on him instead of turning him on. The screams are getting louder and the familiar dizziness before the visual hallucinations washes over him and he has to get out of here. He has to get away from Zayn because he’s the only one being honest and telling Liam how it really is and all at once he realizes how undeserving he is.

 

“Y-you think I killed all those people?” Liam’s going to puke.

 

“Don’t be daft. _You_ didn’t kill those people, the plane you built did but don’t worry, it’s not like you'll ever get reprimanded for it.” Zayn says nonchalantly and Liam isn’t panicking anymore, he just sort of goes blank, speechless.

 

“B-but it’s. I wasn’t-” Liam’s words are cut off by a loud sob and for a second he thinks he see’s Zayn’s features soften but it must’ve been an illusion because now he’s slamming the front door and leaving Liam to cry on his own.

 

And Liam really didn’t mean to piss him off and he figures the last chance he has to restore normality lies in Zayn so he goes after him. Just like in every romance film Louis has ever forced him to watch, he goes after his only hope. Except this isn’t love, probably never will be and Liam is desperate and Zayn isn’t. 

 

He follows Zayn to the stairs and up, up, up until a door swings open harshly and he’s pacing out onto the roof. Liam waits by the building exit, trying to think of a plan but all that comes to mind is “don’tfuckupdon’tfuckupdon’tfuckup.” He rubs his hand roughly over his face and decides to finally execute the plan he never made as he gently pushes down onto the handle and steps cautiously onto the concrete. 

 

Zayn’s sitting on the ledge, his knuckles white from gripping onto the bricks that separate him from life and death and Liam isn’t thinking about all the lives he’s taken, he’s thinking about how he’s going to save Zayn’s.

 

“Zayn.” He says softly, inching closer and closer, reaching distance just in case. “Don’t jump.” and it’s meant to be stern but it only sounds weak and pleading.

 

“Piss off, this is just where I go to think.” Zayn’s voice has it’s usual condescending and all powerful tone but there’s something else, he sounds unsure and that’s more rare than a blue moon.

 

“Well...What’re you thinkin’ about?” Liam’s throat goes dry and he only stutters once.

 

“Why do you wanna know?” Zayn snaps and turns back to look at the horizon, it truly is a sight to rivall Zayn’s beauty, the way the city lights sort of twinkle in the night sky. It’s like looking down at the stars and Liam thinks if it weren’t so bloody freezing he’d spend the night out here on the roof.

 

Liam shrugs and must look a bit pouty because Zayn seems to catch his harsh words and soften a bit. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, _any_ of that. It’s just been a pretty horrid day.” Zayn’s jaw chatters and Liam wants to bundle him up and make him a steamy cup of hot chocolate.

 

“Tell me about it then.” Liam says softly, like speaking at a normal volume might cause the lights below them to short circuit and the sky above them to fall.

 

Liam swings his legs over the barrier and mimics Zayn’s position, sitting close to him but not close enough. Never close enough.

 

“Why do you care though?” Zayn says with less bite in his voice this time. “I mean, you’re like the muscle man, jock type. It’s not like you really care about some wannabe hipster’s feelings. Or feelingf at all, really.” 

 

Liam looks equal parts perplexed and concerned. “Zayn, this...this isn’t high school mate, I want to listen. None of that stereotyping bullshit, and for your information I was a horrible jock, got beat up almost everyday for being... well I don’t know I guess I was just an easy target.” Zayn smiles at the bit about no stereotyping but his face quickly goes angry at the last part.

 

“Nobody is a _target,_ Liam. Those kids were just cruel and unusual. Probably still are.” Liam smiles quietly and chances a glance at Zayn to find him already looking at him with an almost protective glint to his eyes and Liam must be imaging things.

 

“So, what made today so shit then?” Liam brings the subject back into matter and it almost feels invasive to ask a second time but for some reason he doesn’t care.

 

“There are a lot of bad people in this world, Liam. I’d like to think I’m not one of ‘em but, my nationality makes it hard for other people to think the same thing.” Liam’s about to tell him how he really is a great person but Zayn continues speaking. “And I’ve just been seeing this stuff all over the news and it’s not your fault, I’m a real jerk for saying that. It’s just frustrating ‘cause before it’d been bad but it was tolerable, the racism. But, now I can’t even go to the coffee shop without getting glared at ‘cause my skins a bit darker than everyone else's. Today on the tube some little kid was asking me about the sketches on my notebook and when his mum realized she snatched the kid away so fast and told him not to talk to the ‘terrorist’ and-” a single tear falls down Zayn’s cheek and Liam knows he wasn’t meant to see it so he doesn’t mention it, just silently places his fingers over Zayn’s where his hand is resting on the concrete wall. Zayn doesn’t pull his hand away. Liam’s entire body heats at the touch.

 

“If I were there I would’ve told her to take the stick out of her arse and shove her opinions up it.” Liam says honestly and Zayn lets out a watery laugh and sniffles. It’s the cutest thing Liam’s ever heard.

 

“Wouldn’t change anything though would it? They aren’t gonna change their opinions and I’m not gonna be ashamed of who I am.” Liam feels incredibly proud because he’s never met someone so strong in his life, Louis included.

 

“Well, guess it’s a good thing you’re pretty fucking awesome then. I mean you’re gonna be a published author, what have they done besides grown up to be bigoted assholes?” Liam really just wants Zayn to feel happy, and those fuckwits don’t deserve to make him feel anything less.

 

“Thanks. For this. Sorry I took everything out on you. I know I’ve been cold towards you but, you’re not too bad of a guy Liam Payne.” If Liam hadn’t have just had such an emotionally draining conversation he probably would’ve come in his pants at the sound of his name on Zayn’s lips but instead he smiles bashfully and shakes his head.

 

“Anytime, Zayn. You’re not too bad yourself.” Liam winks, he actually fucking winks and under the lights he thinks Zayn might actually be blushing.

 

They watch the moving traffic below in comfortable silence for what feels like hours. Every so often Liam will hear Zayn murmur plot ideas under his breath then he’ll pull his mobile out and document the ideas in his notes. Liam feels privelaged to watch his thought process so closely. The word intimate crosses his mind but he swats it away because Zayn won’t ever see him in that  light, won’t ever look at him and want to kiss him half as badly as Liam wants to kiss Zayn. Eventually Zayn starts nodding off and as much as Liam would enjoy Zay’s head on his shoulder for forever he would rather not have a mishap and have Zayn fall asleep and fall of the ledge. Gently, Liam guides Zayn off the ledge and back onto the firm ground of the roof. Their legs are wobbly but they manage to make it back into the building.

 

“This um- Sorry if this is weird.” Zayn says as they're heading back inside with frostbitten noses. “But, um, that really helped y’know? Talking to you. So if you’d maybe wanna get a coffee sometime...” Zayn shies away and hesitates by the stairs before they part ways.

 

“Yeah.” Liam says breathlessly. “I’d really like that.”

 

“I’m free tomorrow, if you’re not busy I can swing by and we can go to that place around the corner.” And Liam has no idea what place Zayn is talking about but he nods eagerly anyways and lets out a giddy ‘see you later’ before continuing down the stairs while Zayn just sort of stands at the top and watches him instead of turning down the hallway.

 

He pretends he can’t feel Zayn’s eyes on his retreating figure and smiles to himself. Liam gets inside his flat and leans against the front door with his eyes closed and lets out a content sigh. He doesn’t have to hide his smile anymore and absolutely beams at the thought of him and Zayn, Zayn and him. 

 

“Where the hell did you go?! I went to go check to see if you’d fallen asleep and you’d just gone without even saying see ya later!” A familiar squeaky voice rings through his ears and Liam’s eyes flash open to find Louis standing in the middle of his living room.

 

“The roof.” Liam offers vaguely and heads to his room to change into a pair of joggers, Louis follows him, it’s not like they haven’t seen each other naked before.

 

“The roof.” Louis repeats unamused. 

 

“The roof.” Liam teases. He regrets it the instant recognition and a sly smirk cross Louis’ face.

 

“The roof!” He chants. “So, you had a nice chat with Zayn then?” Louis wiggles his eyebrows.

 

“Lovely. Now you know I’m alive so you can go back to sucking Harry’s brains out through his dick.” Louis starts to protest but Liam shoots him down. “There’s cum on your forehead and don’t even tell me that’s gel in your hair because I’m not the naive child I once was, Lou.”

 

Louis pretends to pout but ends up smiling smugly.

 

“Just... Be careful, the both of you.” Louis pleads as he walks towards the front door. Liam rolls his eyes.

 

“It’s not like that, we’re just friends...if that.” Liam corrects and lets Louis kiss him on the cheek before he shoves his pixie friend out of his flat to finally be alone.

 

He contains himself all of five minutes before his hand’s down his pants and he’s wanking in the middle of his flat to the idea of Zayn blowing him in the bathroom stall of a coffee shop. The thought that Zayn wants to spend more time with Liam than Louis is forcing him to is enough to make him climax and that night Liam’s so fucked out he only has one nightmare. 

 

Zayn can’t fix him, Liam’s not deluded, he knows that. But Zayn sure as hell can be his beautiful distraction from all that is wrong in the world.


	3. Zayn

Zayn

 

Zayn’s nervous. But he can’t be nervous, Zayn Malik is _never_ nervous. Zayn Malik is strong and tough. He’s not nervous at all. Except, he really really is. Zayn is nervous because he doesn’t just open up to people like this. He doesn’t just ask a friend out to coffee to discuss all that is wrong in the world. It took knowing Louis for three years before he even admitted an insecurity as stupid as his dancing skills and he went and told Liam his deepest thoughts in one night. 

 

Maybe he should’ve just left it there, forced Liam to never speak of it and go back to glaring at the boy who he now knows is sweet and caring and anything but the ignorant bastard Zayn thought him to be. He really does feel like a dick for being so cold to Liam before but it’s not like he can turn back time so he sucks in a deep breath and raises his hand to knock on Liam’s door, hesitates, breathes out, and lets his fist rap on the door three times. He has to close his eyes and say a small prayer for his sanity because all he can think about is how Liam will want more, won’t be content with just knowing the minimum, won’t be fine with never speaking of The Roof Talk ever again. 

 

“Peek-a-boo?” He hears a voice and opens his eyes to find Liam smiling amused down at him.

 

“Right, so you ready to go?” Zayn avoids further embarrassment and acts like Liam didn’t just find him in such an odd state.

 

“Yeah, one second. Just got to grab my phone.” Liam turns back into his flat and leaves the door open so Zayn can follow.

 

Zayn studies Liam while the boy searches for his mobile. Takes in his thick flannel shirt, baggy jeans, and Timberland boots. He’s let his scruff grow out a bit and Zayn finds himself thinking that Niall doesn’t have stubble, nor does he dress so well. Then Zayn remembers that it’s not nice to compare people because everyone’s different and comparing isn’t fair.What’s important is that Liam would make for a great character in the sequel to Zayn’s book, the manly man that’s a softie at heart and helps the main character find love again. 

 

“Aha!” Liam excavates his phone from the couch cushions and slips it into the front pocket of his jeans. 

 

“Lead the way.” Liam gestures grandly out the front door and _wow, biceps._ Zayn shakes his head to clear his mind and smiles weakly as he turns to exit the flat.

 

They walk in comfortable silence to the coffee shop that Zayn has come to love. It’s a hole in the wall place void of tourists, businessmen, and hipsters. Just locals looking for a place of peace and rest. Zayn closes his eyes and takes in the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and the warmth only this place can offer envelops him and washes over his senses. His moment is cut short by s shrill ringing and Liam looks profusely apologetic as he answers the call.

 

“That’s great! ...No, I’ll be fine....I’m with him now....I swear...Okay, _Okay_. ...Good luck, love you too.” Liam slips his phone back into his pocket and Zayn looks at him with a raised brow.

 

“Louis’ agent managed to get him a second chance on that BBC audition, he’s just making sure I don’t go and nearly off myself again.” Liam explains with a bitter laugh and Zayn looks at him with a mix of concern and confusion.

 

“Don’t joke about that.” Zayn says disapprovingly, shortly and it seems to snap Liam out of whatever dark place he drifted off to.

 

“Sorry- I. That was screwed up, I’m sorry.” Liam’s begging, not apologizing and Zayn nods his head dissuasively and turns to order his usual, black coffee with a chocolate chip muffin on the side.

 

Liam cuts in before Zayn can pay, orders a hot chocolate and blueberry scone, then pays for them both. Zayn blushes a tiny bit and thanks him with a shy smile. Normally he’d be pissed, because Zayn is an independent man who can afford his own god damn coffee thank you very much, but he knows Liam is only doing it out of the kindness of his heart so he lets him and guides the boy to his usual spot on the beaten up leather couch in the corner of the shop. 

 

It’s intimate in a different way. Not quite romantic but no exactly friendly. Liam is sipping his hot chocolate quietly and Zayn is picking apart his muffin and it’s comfortable, it really is but Zayn is still itching with unspoken words. Liam takes a bite of his scone and licks away at the crumbs on his chin and Zayn’s heart flutters for no reason at all.

 

“Um, So I just wanted to thank you for last night. I was a dick and you didn’t have to be nice.” Zayn begins hesitantly.

 

“You’re right, but I wanted to be nice. To you.” Liam won’t look Zayn in the eyes, he keeps fidgeting about and nervously ripping at his napkin. Zayn’s no better, his muffin has been picked to crumbs and his leg won’t stop bouncing.

 

“What do you write about?” Liam asks out of nowhere and lifts his head up to look in Zayn’s general direction. They make eye contact for a short second, neither of them is sure of who breaks it.

 

“Um...” Zayn’s an eloquent mother fucker who never stutters but the question has him at a fault. “Well, the novel is sort of an autobiography I guess, not really about me but most of the stories in it and characters are based off of my life. The main character is this artsy quiet kid and he sort of hates life but finds it fascinating at the same time. The plot is pretty standard I guess, little bit of angst and dealing with what makes the character weak and how they deal with it.” Theres an actual plot to the story that can be described with actual intellect but Zayn isn’t actually in the right mind set to dive into the depths of oppression and suppression and depression.

 

“And what makes them weak?” Liam’s voice is low and intense and they both know what he’s really asking and it’s a lot.

 

“You, I suppose.” Zayn whispers and he can’t help his eyes from drifting down to Liam’s lips, they’re plump and slightly pouty but not in a moody way, in a Liam way.

 

“Yeah?” Liam’s suddenly very close, he smells of cologne and coffee and stress and desperation and everything Zayn’s ever romanticized.

 

“Yeah.” Zayn nods slightly and Liam seems to understand that he’s been granted permission because now he’s leaning in impossibly closer.

 

He stops right before their lips touch, before fire meets ice, night meets day and Zayn gasps slightly when he feels Liam’s hand cup his face gently. It’s intense, so incredibly intense and Zayn doesn’t even kiss on the first date, to be fair he doesn’t even remember when his last first date was, but he knows his boundaries and suddenly Liam is bursting through them with no force at all. This isn’t even a first date, it’s their first time spending time together as maybe-friends and Zayn doesn’t want Liam to stop.

 

“And how are you gonna deal with it?” Liam’s lips brush against his with the movement and Zayn forgets what he’s even talking about, his brain short circuits and all he can see is bright flashing neon lights in the forefront of his mind spelling out ‘KISS HIM’ and Zayn doesn’t normally do what he’s told until he does.

 

He fists Liam’s shirt and pulls him forward to close off the centimeter of space left between them and it’s like the pieces just fall into place, like the resolution after the climax. It’s a bit poorly practiced at first, noses bumping and teeth scraping but they giggle through it. And Zayn thinks that that is so utterly them, or what they could be. Intense and fiery one moment and silly and fond the next.

 

Liam pulls back a bit but only so he can touch his forehead to Zayn’s, aligning their faces and giggling as he looks into his eyes from such a close distance. Zayn’s forgotten he’s in a coffee shop but is annoyingly reminded when the clumsy barista drops a tray of cups and they all go crashing to the ground in a loud cacophony of shattering ceramics. His surprised face must amuse Liam some more because he’s giggling again and nuzzling his face into Zayn’s neck and Zayn...let’s him. He doesn’t know why but he let’s Liam stay close, let’s the butterfly’s in tummy whirl up a storm, let’s himself be okay with being okay with his.

 

Liam leans back into the couch, arm around Zayn, and keeps taking a breath like he’s going to say something but stays silent. Zayn bites back his smile at the adorable frustration and gives Liam his time, places a gentle hand on his thigh and admires his profile.

 

“Can-” Liam starts and his throat goes dry, Zayn looks at him softly with encouragement. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” Liam tries again and Zayn tries not to smirk, he really does but old habits die hard.

 

“I’m a simple kind of man, Li.” He doesn’t miss the way Liam’s eyes sparkle at the use of the nickname. “Buy me a sandwich and another coffee and we can call this a date.”

 

Liam’s smile covers his entire face and Zayn doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it, doesn’t let himself think that maybe he won’t even get the opportunity to do so. All he thinks is that if he were a cartographer, he’d map out every perfect line of Liam’s eye crinkles, he thinks that if he were ever lost, he’d use the stars in Liam’s eyes to find his way home. He thinks maybe he thinks too much and this is all going quite fast but he can’t really bring himself to care because Liam is just that calming. 

 

“You’re so beautiful.” Liam mutters and Zayn becomes aware that they’ve sort of been staring at each other for the last five minutes and yes, Liam is the only person he can bring himself to look at.

 

Okay, maybe Zayn’s pent up frustration towards Liam wasn’t dislike at all and maybe he’s known that all along but everything still comes as a bit of a shock. It’s not like Zayn does unrequited love, if he would have recognized his feelings for Liam earlier he would have done something about it, but maybe all he needed was a kind soul to seal off the deal of a muscled body. Liam is everything he needs and more, he’s soft and strong, he’s caring and beautiful, he’s everything Zayn never allowed himself to write about because characters that perfect just wouldn’t exist in the real world. Until they do, and Liam comes along and steals the show, becomes the protagonist of Zayn’s life.

 

Zayn answers with a kiss because despite being an author, he’s horrible when it comes to articulating his own words and he hopes a chaste press of the lips is enough to get ‘thanks, but actually you’re the gorgeous one’ across. Liam smiles softly and he thinks that maybe it does, maybe he knows.

 

They’re on there third round of coffees, bellies full of turkey sandwiches, and maybe it’s just the caffeine or maybe Zayn is starting to come down from his Liam high but he can feel himself getting more jittery and antsy by the second. Zayn needs a distraction, a story, so he asks Liam about his family. Figures if they’re going to stare at each other like they’re both the second coming of christ then they should probably know a bit more than the basics.

 

“My sisters are older and were always interested in a lot more things than their stupid kid brother. Ruth was always good to me though, she knew I had a shit time with bullies at school so she was always sure to baby me a bit and slap her friends upside the head if they complained when I tagged along with her to the shops.” Liam looks like a cross between content and guilty and Zayn pats his thigh to sooth him.

 

“D’you miss them?” Zayn asks quietly, words coming out in a mumbled mess. Liam shrugs.

 

“It wasn’t like that when I left. I wasn’t a kid anymore, I had a few mates from work I’d hang around, the bullies went away, my kidney started working again. It’s nice to remember but I know if I go back it won’t be the same. My sisters are moved out and my dad’s... well my dad hasn’t even tried to speak to me since I skipped out but my mum understands.” It sounds rehearsed, like Liam’s come to terms with everything and Zayn’s proud, so proud and filled with private joy for Liam he almost misses the question Liam asks him in return.

 

“What about you, what was little Zayn like?” Liam asks innocently

 

Zayn blanches because he’s not used to considerate . He’s not used to people asking questions in return or caring about his answer. He doesn’t want to dump all this on Liam, not in some stupid coffee house. His eyes dart to the door helplessly and back to Liam just as quickly. He needs an excuse and he needs one now because he’s come to know Liam and he knows the boy will thrash out or cry in public if Zayn tells him what really happened when he was growing up.

 

Zayn wasn’t bullied for the same reasons as Liam, he wasn’t disliked by other children for being a bit knock kneed and scrawny. Zayn was hated by students and parents and teachers because he, an innocent eight year old boy, was the reason they all felt unsafe in the environment around him. Zayn, a little dark skinned boy who liked Marvel comics and writing haikus about his crushes, who received countless hurtful comments and disgusted scoffs all because his family prayed to a different god. Zayn who grew up reading history books claiming that racism was a thing of the past when everyday after school he got beaten and bruised all because some older kids overheard him speaking in Arabic to his father over the phone. 

 

“Zayn, darling.” Liam says gently and snaps Zayn from his thoughts and looks more concerned than Zayn’s ever seen.

 

“Yeah, sorry. Um...” Zayn doesn’t know where to start and he’s about to say he doesn’t 

much feel like talking about it when a mischievous glint sparks in Liam’s eyes.

 

“Don’t worry about it. Whadd’ya say we get out of here, yeah?” Liam winks and nods towards the counter where they’re meant to pay but no employees are around.

 

“Liam Payne, are you suggesting we dine and dash?” His answer is Liam pulling him up by his waist, gripping his hand and they’re running like madmen out the exit and down the deserted street.

 

It’s snowing, Zayn loves the snow. Loves how it silences the busy streets and mutes the world in a blurry white haze. Zayn thinks Liam is quite a lot like the snow. They’re laughing wildly, pumped on adrenaline and the biting cold of the air. Zayn knows it’s not about free coffee and food, not about the thrill of getting away with it, Liam did this to make Zayn happy. To distract him from his deepest thoughts and that’s...That’s a lot to take in, that’s a lot of emotion that he doesn’t know where to place. 

 

He finds himself tugging Liam to a halt and pouncing on him. Taking his face in both hands and kissing him deeper and more desperately than before. His hands must be freezing on Liam’s cheeks but the boy only goes slack in approval and opens his mouth to Zayn’s tongue. There’s no laughter this time, just pure intense passion that shouldn’t feel so natural for only their second kiss but it does. Liam’s just so pliant and it matches so well with Zayn’s eagerness and gentle touch. 

 

Liam’s making theses soft little breathy moans and it’s all Zayn can hear, like the snow it silences everything else. Liam tastes like overly sweetened coffee and blueberries and everything Zayn thought he hated but he can’t get enough of it now. He licks into Liam’s mouth chasing the feeling and grasping for more and Liam’s hips start moving suggestively and Zayn slowly registers the fact that they’re about to get off in the middle of the street.

 

“Oi, I told ay I’m coming I’ve just gotta pick up some film and I’ll fuckin’ be there.” A familiar voice booms from somewhere not too far away. 

 

Zayn pulls back from the kiss and perks his hear up to listen more closely, willing himself to not give into Liam’s flushed face and swollen red lips. Liam takes this as his chance to move in and start sucking a love bite just by the curve of his neck, right where his shoulder and neck meet and there is no fucking way Liam just knows where his weak spot is. It takes a little more effort to push him back with a lame palm on Liam’s chest but he backs away and gives a little hurt look that Zayn somehow refrains from kissing away.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I’m pretty sure the slam will survive without me but I suppose I’ll be there ‘round seven. Now goodbye ay fucker.” Zayn hides his repulsed look at the cussing and tugs on Liam’s hand so they can follow the voice.

 

“What are you doing?” Liam asks looking confused and vaguely amused.

 

“We’re following Niall.” Zayn answers simply and tries to tug on Liam but he’s not the Hulk and he does not possess the ability to move the boulder that is Liam.

 

“Work me up like that and we’re just gonna run after some Irish man that may or may not be Niall?” Liam questions and gestures to the tent in his pants and Zayn bites down a smirk because he did that. He does not however, contain himself from smiling wickedly and palming Liam through his tightening jeans, eliciting a shallow intake of breath from the boy.

 

“Well if you’re a good boy then I just might take care of it later. You know exactly who that chirpy, loud voice belongs to so come on and help me be a snoop.” Zayn tries yanking on Liam’s hand again and this time he follows willingly.

 

They walk against the blowing snowflake filled wind and maybe this isn’t Zayn’s best idea ever but he’s a curious guy and he’d really like to find out what it is that Niall always seems to be hiding. Even though Liam’s sort of obliterated Zayn’s crush on the Irish boy, he’s still a friend and Zayn’s not stupid, he always knew the kid was never going out to ‘Brad’s, no Ben’s, he’s this new guy I don’t know his name’s party’. 

 

They walk a street over and find the boy bouncing along and humming loudly, always loud, never like the snow. Niall’s bleached hair stands out and Zayn pulls up his hood inconspicuously and pulls Liam’s up for him, they need to blend in.

 

“Tell me again why you want to snoop on Niall?” Liam asks with chattering teeth and Zayn feels bad for dragging him into the snow but Niall said slam and Zayn’s pretty sure that’s lingo for some kind of drug. He says just that and Liam bursts into laughter and Zayn has to physically quiet him with a kiss.

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s smack, babes.” Liam says like he’s the all knowing and Zayn pouts while trying to keep an on Niall.

 

“Well excuse me for not being part of a drug cartel.” Zayn grunts and quickens his pace, they’re falling behind and Niall keeps looking over his shoulder like he knows he’s being watched.

 

“You’re excused.” Liam banters but makes up for it by taking Liam’s hand in his and kissing it softly.

 

Up ahead Niall turns right into a dimly lit shop and as they grow closer Zayn discovers it’s a posh looking cafe. So, great, they followed Niall to watch him stuff his face with overpriced tea and biscuits. Brilliant. Liam’s got his ‘I told you so’ face on and Zayn’s about ready to give in when he turns around and runs right smack into a chalkboard sign. He nearly curses at the pain in his shins and Liam is watching him carefully so he stops himself and only then does he actually read the loopy writing on the sign that says _“Poetry Slam: Tonight @7, All Entries Welcome :)”._ And, well, holy shit on a stick. 

 

“Niall’s a poet?” Zayn’s voice comes out a few octave higher than usual in sheer disbelief. 

 

Niall. Good old fashioned frat boy Niall that wears basketball shorts and muscle tanks and laughs at his own farts is in possibly the most pretentious coffee house in all of the UK for a _poetry slam_. Zayn has to do a double take because this can’t be right even if it all adds up, the shifty behavior, the rushed closing of ‘college notebooks’ and inconsistent night classes, it all falls into place and Zayn’s a bit angry at himself for not recognizing a fellow writer. 

 

“And we didn’t even know it.” Liam deadpans and Zayn makes a note to make sure Liam quits hanging around Harry and his middle aged man jokes all the time.

 

“You’re an idiot.” Zayn says with entirely too much fond in his voice and Zayn realizes that maybe he needs to stop hanging around Louis and his poorly executed insults all the time. 

 

“So we gonna follow through with this or what?” and Zayn feels like there’s entirely too much depth to that question. 

 

The way Liam says it so sincerely leaves Zayn wondering just exactly what Liam’s talking about, Niall or them as LiamandZayn but either way it’s a definite yes so he nods his head a few times and hides his smile by turning to look back into the window of the cafe. Niall’s completely oblivious as always, bouncing around and greeting people, well the people actually seem to be stopping him for conversations and Niall is the one who seems bored for a change. Like he just wants to get away from the small talk and that’s not like Niall at all. Niall loves small talk, loves turning it into deep conversations about whatever the other person wants to talk about and he’ll pretend to understand other people’s passions. 

 

Zayn finds himself reaching for the handle of the door and pulling Liam inside to the warmth of the lower level cafe area. They keep their heads down and sit at the farthest table away that still offers a decent enough view. The dim lighting adds to the camouflage and so does the waitress standing at their table and eyeing Liam like she’s a starved wolf and he’s a piece of meat.

 

“What can I get you, babe?” She asks too cheerily, pen and pad in hand waving around far too enthusiastically.

 

“Uh, just tea please.” Liam doesn’t look interested in the slightest, he’s too busy smiling at Zayn but the girl’s obnoxious giggle intrudes their moment.

 

“We’ve got loads of different teas, sweetheart. There’s green, breakfast, earl grey, chai-”

 

“Just two black coffees then, yeah?” Zayn cuts her off and doesn’t even try to mask the bite in his voice. What kind of demented stranger has the nerve to call Liam pet names? That’s most definitely Zayn’s job.

 

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” Liam nudges Zayn’s foot under the table once the girl’s left.

 

“I’m not jealous.” Zayn defends and he immediately regrets how quick he was to deny it because it makes the fact that he is in fact very much so jealous all the more obvious.

“Right, right and we’re not stalking our innocent friend right now.” Liam smirks, well he tries to but it ends up getting lost in a cute little bashful smile.

 

Zayn’s retort get’s lost in the sudden change of atmosphere. It’s like the cafe changes into a lounge with one pull of a curtain that reveals a small wooden stage with a single microphone and stool in the middle. There’s a spot light that keeps flickering on and off then a loud bang and its on, shining directly onto the blonde boy that Zayn once thought to have as much depth as a shot glass. Liam jumps a bit at the loud noise but settles when Zayn grips his knee under the table. 

 

The audience erupts into a loud symphony of snapping and whistling that Zayn thinks probably isn’t appropriate for the setting but everyone else around seems to be too enraptured to care, Liam included. Zayn turns his attention back to the stage and even though there’s now a group crowded around, they still have a pretty decent view. 

 

“Alright, aright. Chill your fuckin’ tits it’s just me.” Niall is absolutely beaming as the crowd bursts into a round of laughter and a manly cry of ‘I want your Irish cream’ comes from somewhere close to front stage and then Niall is beet red and cackling with joy.

 

And it’s all so rehearsed, like Niall has been doing this for years and Zayn’s even more confused than he was in all his secondary school math lessons combined. 

 

“Alright, so today what do we want? Something cheery to kick things off or some of that depressing pining shit?” Niall is interacting with the crowd like he knows every single one of them personally, and hell, maybe he does, it wouldn’t be the biggest surprise of the night.

 

A mixture of responses are shouted out then an extra loud ‘Depress us, blondie!’ comes from the same muscled man as before and the crowd comes to an agreement. Niall’s smile falters a tiny bit, something that only Zayn and Liam out of a room full of people are able to detect. He continues nonetheless, always the people pleaser, and clears his throat before beginning.

 

“Well this is a classic most of you have probably heard me blubbering about before but, fear not, it’s the last time I’ll ever be reading this one. It was the first poem I ever wrote and read here that wasn’t about footy or pints and it used to mean a lot to me. But, I’ve sort of moved on from being the stupid kid that thought he was in love and so I added a final stanza for closure and all that shit. This one’s called ‘Idle Observations’” Niall makes his introduction and the crowd silences immediately, a somber sort of mood has washed over the room and Zayn is too hyper aware of it all.

 

Too invested in Liam’s dopey smile directed at the stage, too observant of Niall’s every word, and far too worried over nothing. 

 

“ _The first time I saw you in July_

_you smiled at me warmly_

_and I swear it was like the sun was in your eyes,_

_and the crinkles in the corners were the rays_

_and my cheeks flushed deeper than usual_

_and I knew I liked you_

 

_I saw you again in August_

_you smiled at me tiredly_

_and the sun was in your eyes, just a little bit dimmer_

_and the crinkles were still there but not quite_

_and the flush in my cheeks was camouflaged as sunburn_

_and I knew I adored you_

 

_I saw you unexpectedly in September_

_you were smiling politely at someone else_

_and I wasn’t close enough to see the way your eyes lit up for him_

_and I couldn’t help but think those crinkles should be showing for me_

_and the tips of my ears  turned red with jealousy but I kept a straight face_

_and I knew I was gone for you_

 

_I saw you sometime late in November_

_you smiled at me brightly_

_and there were clouds up above but your eyes were clear enough_

_and I wanted to commit every single fading crinkle to memory_

_and my cheeks stopped blushing but there were butterflies everywhere_

_and I knew I was in love with you_

 

_I’m looking at you right now_

_you haven’t been smiling at all_

_and the sun in you’re eyes has been swallowed by a black hole_

_and the crinkles are smoothed over, it’s like you’re not even here_

_and I don’t feel anything, the butterflies have died along with your eyes_

_and now Im not sure what love even is_ ” 

 

Niall reads it in such a pained way, like the words are salt to his wounds and the effect it has on everyone unbelievable. A few people in the crowd are crying, faces falling instantly at the added verse and Zayn would be crying to if it weren’t blatantly obvious who the poem was about.

 

“Holy shit.” Liam mutters next to him and sniffles. “That was about me wasn’t it?” He asks a bit helplessly. 

 

“It’s okay.” Zayn whispers and he’s not sure what exactly wouldn’t be okay, it’s just a poem and Niall’s feelings. There’s nothing that would need to get better it’s just that the way Niall read it with so much emotion and somber enthusiasm is a bit to recover from.

 

“I had no idea.” Liam shakes his head in denial and suddenly Zayn wants to see his eyes because surely they can’t be as cloudy as Niall just said they had become. 

 

Zayn gently holds Liam’s chin and angles his head with his thumb and fore finger and above the candlelight Liam’s eyes are glimmering and Zayn doesn’t ever want that to stop so he leans forward and kisses Liam slowly like he’s taking away all the bad. He knows it doesn’t work like that, knows that Liam will be just as sad with or without being kissed but Zayn doesn’t care, he keeps kissing him anyways. Liam only hesitates for a minute before giving in and leaning in to hold the back of Zayn’s neck to deepen the kiss. It’s the first time Zayn’s ever shown his affection in public and it’s easy. Easy because all he can focus on is the sweet taste of Liam and the way his fingers feel twisting at the hair at the nape of his neck.

 

“C’mon.” Liam mutters as he pulls back. “Let’s go say hey to Niall and go back to mine, yeah?”

 

Zayn nods far too eagerly and takes Liam’s hand and practically pulls him towards the stage where Niall is keeping a crowd of people entertained. The minute his line of vision meets them his eyes go wide in fear and he starts sputtering, lamely dismissing himself from the group of hipsters at his beck and call.

 

“Liam, Zee. I- its.” Zayn’s known Niall for a few years, was convinced he loved the kid for half of that time and not once has he ever seen him so small and quiet, embarrassed almost.

 

“The poem was lovely, Ni.” Liam speaks up. “You were a poet and we didn’t even know it.” Liam tries for the same lame joke and Zayn rolls his eyes fondly and swats at his chest while trying to stifle a giggle.

 

“Christ this is so fucking weird, can we just all admit we know the poem was about you and forget this ever happened?” Niall practically pleads and eyes the exit suspiciously.

 

“It’s alright Niall. If it makes you feel any better, I used to write about my love for you in my notebook.” Zayn speaks up because why the hell not. Liam chokes on air and Niall cracks up in laughter and everything seems to all go back to normal.

 

“No fuckin’ way?” Niall wheezes through the laughs and Liam squeezes Zayn’s hip possessively if not a little harshly.

 

“Yep, Have your laughs but I thought you were proper fit...until I got to know Liam of course.” Zayn adds at Liam’s lustful glare and nuzzles into his side a bit.

 

“So you two...” Niall leaves the question and Zayn and Liam both nod bashfully. “For how long ?” Niall asks, not intrusive or jealous, just curious about his mates.

 

Zayn holds up his wrist as if to check his nonexistent watch and purses his lips. “Our three hour anniversary is coming up here pretty soon.” Zayn decides seriously, Liam giggling a his side.

 

“Well congratulations fuckers! Drinks on me then, c’mon let’s go to Ralph’s.” Niall cheers and honestly the last place Zayn wants to be is some shitty pub when he could be in Liam’s bed.

  
“Uh, actually we uh, are otherwise engaged.” Liam let’s Niall down gently, ever the gentleman. 

  

Niall only looks a little disappointed but Zayn already feels a bit guilty for being all over Liam when Niall just poured his heart out into a poem about the boy.

 

“Tomorrow though, yeah? Come ‘round to mine and Louis’ with Harry and we’ll take you to that new pub and walk home absolutely wasted like old times.” Zayn offers and Niall nods eagerly and perks up only to go a bit nervous again.

 

“So what happens at the poetry slam stays there yeah?” Niall bounces hopefully.

 

“No way, we’re taking the piss for this for the rest of your life.” Liam teases and Niall looks briefly horrified “Between the three of us of course.” Liam adds and Niall breathes.

 

Zayn’s about to quip in with his own satiric remark but a fit guy in the corner that’s eyeing up Niall distracts him. He’s not exactly what Zayn would describe as his type, the kind that hangs around coffee houses and wears atrocious sports jerseys as every day clothing but he looks like a good enough match for Niall.

 

“How about you tell us all about your secret life later and in the mean time go make friends with the fit guy undressing you with his eyes.” Zayn cuts in to whatever conversation is about to start and nods over Niall’s shoulder to the man.

 

Niall smiles dubiously, hugs them both quickly and saunters over to the fit boy. Liam turns to Zayn absolutely beaming, crinkles in his eyes and everything. Zayn smiles right back and takes Liam’s hand in his own just because he can and practically drags him back to Liam’s flat.

 

They’re both too eager for it and for once Zayn’s glad it’s bloody freezing outside because it’s a nice distraction from his hot arousal. He manages to make it up the stairs before Zayn pounces on Liam and feels him up relentlessly. Liam’s hands are working as quickly as they can to unlock the damn door while Zayn kisses and licks up his neck and jaw. Liam murmurs something about ‘christening every piece of furniture he owns’ and Zayn responds with a rough ‘and then the floor’ and the rest of the night fades into one glorious mess of lube, sweat, and sex.

 

Two months later the fit guy in the corner ends up being Bressie, Niall’s ‘spectacular’ boyfriend. Zayn can’t help but be a little suspicious of the man who seemingly knows Niall better than all of his best mates. It’s irritating really, Niall still hasn’t given Zayn or even Liam a reason as to why he was reading poetry at the coffee shop that night. Having it be an indulgent hobby is one thing but Zayn can tell that it obviously reads deeper than that. And this would all be okay, ignorable even, if it weren’t for the fact that every time he and Liam start making out or head to the bedroom Niall comes barging in either begging them to go on a double date or helplessly seeking relationship advice.

 

They’re having a night in at Zayn’s, Louis’ with Harry at his college helping him pick models for his show at the end of the semester. It’s the first time in their two months of being together that Zayn can recollect it being just the two of them. Either Harry’s always interrogating them to ‘summon inspiration’, or Louis is loudly running over his lines, or Niall is being Niall, or Liam has work, or Zayn has a deadline to meet for his book. For once it’s calm and they have time and Zayn intends on having very very loud sex with Liam once the film has finished. Or maybe before, it’s a stupid movie anyways, there’s way too much sickening fluff to it. 

 

It’s just that, no matter how convincing Liam sounds when he says he’s okay Zayn knows he’s not. He catches the way Liam flinches every time there’s a loud crash or when they’re out for a walk and his grips on Zayn’s hand tightens when a plane flies over head. Then there are the subtleties. How Liam stares just a little too blankly at his coffee in the morning or how he gets hauntingly quiet and reserved for days on end and most people chalk it up to Liam settling down or his personality but Zayn knows better. He also knows if he were to have picked the action movie on Netflix that he really wanted to watch, Liam would be reduced to a shaky ball of nerves after the first explosion so he sits through the boring movie and kisses Liam’s temple when he gets too uninterested.

 

“Darling, we don’t have to watch a movie if you’re not up to it. We can do something else.” Liam pauses the film and lifts his head where it’s snuggled into Zayn’s neck to look him in the eyes.

 

And Zayn will be damned if it’s not the most attractive thing he’s ever seen. Being so close to someone as extraordinary as Liam is repeatedly breathtaking and unbelievable and Zayn savors every second of it. The first month of their relationship Zayn had spent most of these moments kicking himself for not noticing Liam in the same way before but he’s come to peace with himself, slowly but surely.

 

“And what would something else entail?” Zayn slides out from where Liam’s laying half on top of him and sits up to straddle his thighs and playfully bite at his neck.

 

“Mmm. I could probably look at the leaky faucet you’ve been moaning about.”Liam teases and Zayn tries to hide his guilty blush.

 

A week into life as boyfriends things got a little too saucy in the kitchen and two orgasms and a burnt dinner later, Zayn was ‘inexplicably’  left with a broken dishwasher. Liam only let him fret over it for a second before revealing he was quite the handy man himself and he needn’t call the landlord to explain that he needs the maintenance man to come have a look at his broken dishwasher with mysterious hand prints and white substances on it. Zayn sort of developed an affinity for handy man Liam after that. Breaking and tinkering with household appliances, much to Louis’ annoyance, and calling his engineer of a boyfriend to come and fix them only to end up fucking him against his bedroom door, insisting that Liam keep his tool belt on. It’s just Liam so fit and willing to help, it’s barely a kink, so sue him.

 

“It’s fine now, stopped leaking a few days ago.” Zayn dismisses him and works on  a love bite behind Liam’s ear.

 

“I don’t know, you should probably double check, I could go get my tools real quick, probably just need to tighten a pipe is all.” and Zayn knows that, he’s the one who loosened the pipe in the first place and as hot as tool time Liam sounds, Zayn is far too eager to wait for that.

 

“Don’t worry about it, honest, love.” Zayn huffs and grinds his hips down, half hard already.

 

“What about that cupboard with the broken hinge?” Liam sounds too collected for someone getting palmed through their boxers, honestly.

 

“Seriously, Li. It can wait-” Zayn freezes. He hasn’t told Liam about his latest ‘odd job’ and Liam hasn’t even used the towel cupboard since he’s been here.

 

Liam squeezes his bum happily and laughs at what must be Zayn’s incredulous expression. “I was on the phone to Louis when you asked where the screw driver was so you could break it.Y'know Iphones are brilliant picking up background noises.” Liam explains and Zayn’s blushing from head to toe.

 

“No need to be embarrassed babe, I quite like fucking you in my tool belt. Figured the mysteriously and all of a sudden broken shit was just your attempt at foreplay.” Zayn forgets to scold Liam for his language he’s so horrified. First he’s going to fuck the smug right off Liam’s face then he’s going to yell at Louis for corrupting his boy.

 

“Shut up.” Zayn’s heart is rabbiting and he surges forward to snog Liam’s stupid smirk, snaking his arms loosely around his neck and quickening the rolling of his hips.

 

Liam gasps and a breathy moan escapes his lips just as a loud rapping of knocks from the front door begins. Liam flinches and Zayn slumps forward in defeat. If Liam would’ve cut it with his teasing they could have both gotten off at least once before being so rudely interrupted, but no. Now he has to answer the door with blue balls and resentment. 

 

“What do you want?” of course it’s Niall, and normally Zayn would be a little nicer to the chirpy blonde but this is the third time he’s been cock blocked by the kid in one week.

 

“I need to get a picture of Liam.” and Niall has had some weird questions to ask over the past two months and this one even rivals ‘can you use butter as lube I mean it has the word butt in it but I feel like it could also give you an STI?.’

 

“Is the wank bank running low or?” Zayn may be sassy but Niall is really messing up Zayn’s good vibes lately.

 

“C’mon Zayn I need it to finish my gallery and I’ve got finals coming up.” Niall is renowned for always being in his own world, Zayn knows that. He also knows that not an ounce of what Niall is saying would make sense in any world.

 

“ Lemme get this straight. You need a picture of my boyfriend for a school project about god knows what and instead of just using some old picture from a night out, you have to interrupt...our alone time to take one instead?” Zayn asks unamused but invites Niall in nonetheless.

 

“It’s not some stupid project. It’s for my gallery.” Niall toes off his trainers and follows Zayn to the living room.

 

“Everything alright, mate?” asks Liam, a look of genuine concern on his face.

 

“It’s just- Every time I come around and try to explain why the fuck I was reading poetry and everything I chicken out and ask some stupid question about relationships or sex and I’ve got a deadline and I can’t keep tip toeing around it and-”

 

“It’s okay Niall, if you’re not ready to talk just wait. Clearly you’re upset so just wait.” Liam, reasonable as he is, comforts Niall and places a hand on his shoulder.

 

“No, I-I’ve got to tell you now, I need the picture by tomorrow or I won’t get passing grade.” Niall looks absolutely helpless and Zayn’s facade of not caring slips just a bit.

 

“Okay, for starters, what are you even majoring in?” Zayn asks, it occurs to him that not once has he ever mentioned what he’s studying, let alone what uni he goes to.

 

“Don’t laugh alright? But I’m doing photography at University of Arts and my theme was Liam, like candids and shit but then it turned into pictures of Bressie and my professor is convinced it’s about my love life and wants me to add another picture of Liam ‘cause she thinks it would complete it or whatever.” Niall gets out in one long breath and keeps his eyes shut the entire time.

 

“You’ve been taking pictures of Liam?” Zayn asks a bit protectively the same moment Liam asks “So that’s why you live with Harry?” 

 

“Yes and yes. We figured since we were going to the same college we might as well just be flat mates. And Zayn, I promise I’m not a creeper. They’re literally just some shitty candids ‘cause I didn’t know what to do my project on and I thought about Liam all the time anyways...” Niall explains himself and Zayn’s an easy going guy and he doesn’t feel like worrying Niall anymore than he has so he sits on the couch beside Liam and remains calm.

 

“Why did you never tell us?” Zayn asks, tone soft.

 

“You all just thought I was the frat boy so I went along with it. Carefree mofo, yeah?” Niall says with a self depreciating laugh.

 

Liam lets out a long breath and Zayn just feels like shit because his best mate hid who he was for years all because they made assumptions.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, get your picture, you’ll do ace on your gallery.” Zayn smiles and Niall jumps out of his chair and start opening up a camera bag.

 

“Okay. Now these are supposed to be candids so, Liam.” Niall directs for Liam to stand up. “Just walk like you’re going out the door, like hunch your shoulders or summat like you and Zayn just had a big fight and you’re leaving.”

 

“But I wouldn’t leave.” Liam defends quietly with a little pout and Zayn hides his smile.

 

“Yeah, no shit, Liam. Okay, just. Fuck I don’t know. Think sad thoughts and walk to the door.” Niall says in exasperation.

 

“K, got it.” Liam slowly walks towards the door and Niall’s camera shutters with each shot.

 

Zayn’s biting his thumbnail in concentration and watching the muscles in Liam’s back contract and stretch with every movement. Liam’s reaching for the door knob and he stills for seven seconds too long before his shoulders start to shake. Zayn rushes to his side, silently praying that Liam’s only crying and not having an episode. He’s relieved and heartbroken all at once to find fat tears rolling downs Liam's face and his eyes pinched shut. He startles when Zayn places a hand on his face, thumbing away at the tears.

 

“It’s just me, love. I’m here. It’s alright.” Liam opens his eyes and crushes Zayn with a hug that he reciprocates just as tightly. 

 

He can still hear the shutter of Niall’s camera going off but he ignores, all attention on Liam. Zayn rubs slow circles into his back and kisses his neck softly. Liam’s so sad and it hurts Zayn so much. Like the pain is infectious. Zayn holds Liam while the boys sniffles and clings to him tightly.

 

“What were you thinking about?” Zayn whispers, he hasn’t heard the camera in a while so Niall must have gone in the kitchen to give them some space.

 

“What if- what if we can’t ever have kids ‘cause I’m too messed up or not allowed ‘cause I’m a murderer.” Zayn thinks he can feel his heart shatter.

 

Liam has all these thoughts in his mind and he never let’s them out. They’ve never even spoken about their future, let alone children and Liam has managed to let his horrible thoughts carry over into the unknown. Zayn hadn’t let himself stress over what their dinner plans are and Liam is already thinking children and it’s exciting and despairing all at once. Exciting because Liam actually wants a future with Zayn, so much so he’s been thinking about kids and Zayn would absolutely love that. Then it’s despairing because Liam doesn’t think it’s even possible.

 

“No, darling, don’t think sad thoughts. It’s all gonna work out. Promise.” Zayn wipes a few more tears from Liam’s cheeks and kisses his eyes that he refuses to open. “Look at me, love. I promise, if you need help we’ll get it. You’re so strong and you’re so good at fixing things and being patient, you’ll be a brilliant father. With a proper number one dad mug and everything.” 

 

Liam sniffles and opens his and from day one they’ve been filled with love and adoration and just pure wonder whenever he looks at Zayn but now there’s something else, like hope and anticipation.

 

“Yeah? And I bet you’d get the kids to write stupid sweet things on Father’s Day and I’d get them to build you a nice popsicle stick pencil and pen holder  since you’re always losing the things.” Liam perks up a bit and sounds so innocently optimistic.

 

Zayn smiles back at him even though Liam can’t see it, his face buried in Zayn’s neck. 

 

“Yeah. Sound’s like a wonderful plan. Now dry those tears, love. We’ve got to go get Niall out of the kitchen, if he eats the leftover pizza Louis will blame it on me without a second thought.” Zayn squeezes Liam’s bum playfully and leaves a lingering kiss on his lips. 

 

Zayn’s never been one to think about having children or settling down, he’s only ever focused on his writing. But seeing the way Liam’s fond eyes never leave him as they shoo Niall out of the house and snuggle back down on the couch and feeling a warmth in his chest that no written story could ever fill, Zayn wouldn’t ever think of anything less. 

 

It’s crazy, he knows. They’ve only been together for a few months and are talking permanence and children but nothing’s ever felt more right. Liam’s his rock, Zayn doesn’t just love Liam because he stay’s up until four a.m. bringing him tea and making him food so he has sustenance and doesn’t pass out when he has to meet a deadline, that’s just a bonus. Zayn loves Liam because they make each other smile and just looking at the boy for the past two months has his heart fluttering and his cheeks blushing. 

 

Without Liam, Zayn would probably a jaded, bitter jerk who didn’t know a life so great existed. And without Zayn, Liam would probably be a shaky nervous wreck one pill away from overdosing. They just work. Zayn calms Liam down and wipes away his tears when things get out of hand Liam soothes Zayn and kisses up his neck when he’s stressing over something completely ridiculous. Liam is the nicest, most honest human being he’s ever met and to get so much of a second glance from the boy should be an honor. And Zayn knows that’s a completely biased  thought but Liam is perfect to him in every way and a life without Liam, wouldn’t be much of a life at all.

 

“Waddya thinkin’ ‘bout, babes?” Liam perks his head up from where it’s resting in Zayn’s lap, just looking up, paying no mind to the super hero movie he begged to watch and honestly Zayn’s so proud because there have been at least five fighting scenes and Liam’s only flinched once.

 

“I love you so fucking much.” Zayn surprises even himself as the words leave his mouth, and Liam’s face is priceless as he hears Zayn curse for the first time.

 

“I love you a shit load more.” Liam responds with an excited and delighted smile that takes over his whole face. 

 

Zayn imagines a few babies crawling around his and Liam’s future flat with the same smiles to rival the sun. And logically, Zayn knows he can’t get Liam pregnant but it doesn’t stop him from dragging the boy to bed and trying his hardest.

 


End file.
